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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23949595">A Hell of Your Own Making</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/spirantization/pseuds/spirantization'>spirantization</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lucifer (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>BAMF Chloe Decker, Background Case, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Demonic Possession, Demons, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hell, Hurt Lucifer, Oral Sex, POV Chloe, POV Lucifer, Porn with Feelings, Post-Season/Series 04, Smut, Temporary Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:28:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>44,392</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23949595</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/spirantization/pseuds/spirantization</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Chloe struggles to move on in the wake of Lucifer's departure and finds herself grappling with some unwanted guests and a new partner who is not all that he seems.</p><p>In Hell, Lucifer faces his own challenges as tensions begin to simmer.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>443</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>519</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Family-Friendly Friday Night Fun</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Please enjoy the following as we all slowly forget how to interact with the outside world.</p><p>Come say hello on tumblr @spirantization.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The key twisted in the lock and Chloe pushed open her front door. The routine was so automatic at this point she could do it in the dark: files on the counter, jacket over a chair, and gun tucked away into the safe.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What a complete mess of a day. She rounded the counter and stepped into the kitchen, switching on the light and opening cabinet doors at random. Did she have any wine lying around? Surely there was something, somewhere. Maybe a nice bottle of red, and then she could climb into the bath and soak the day away. Her whole body felt tense and coiled, a spring just ready to be released. She sighed, rubbing mindlessly at her neck. Of course there would be nothing here when she really needed it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was a creak and the sound of shifting cloth from the living room behind her. Chloe froze, her arm moving slowly to her side. Her gun was already in the safe; her hand groped at nothing. Was that the sound of the curtains? No, it couldn’t be. The windows were shut and she never left the AC running while she was at work.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There it was again: the soft rustle of fabric. She didn’t have a gun, but there were knives in the block by the sink. She pulled out the nearest as slowly and quietly as she could and turned.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A figure stood by the window, a shadow against the illumination from the street lamp outside. “Who’s there?” Chloe demanded, taking a step forward. It looked as though the figure’s back was to her, but that didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean it wasn’t dangerous. She knew so much more about things that lived in the shadows now.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The figure turned and an unmistakable profile caught in the light. “Hello, Detective,” he said softly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Seeing him again after so long was like a punch to the gut. For a moment she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. “Lucifer?” She lowered the knife, setting it aside on the counter and fumbling her way towards him. “How are you — I thought you were —”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>In Hell</em>, she couldn’t say. But no, he was <em>here</em>, dressed in that same sharp suit she’d last seen him in. Was this a trick? Were there shapeshifters? Was she going to be drawn into a demon’s thrall only to be tricked and used as leverage against the real Lucifer?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But no one could possibly replicate the way he looked at her, his eyes so soft, pulling her in. She threw herself into his arms and he caught her, so warm and holding her so tightly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You can’t get rid of me so easily,” he murmured in her ear.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She just — she <em>needed</em> him. Surely there would be time for talking later, and she could find out why he was here and how long he would be able to stay, but for now, she could make this moment theirs. She surged up to kiss him and he met her full force. They stumbled backwards, up the stairs to her bedroom. She tore at his clothes, popping buttons and tearing zippers. It didn’t matter, they were just clothes, who cared when he was here and she needed to feel him and see him and be with him —</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was so fast, probably too fast. They’d been building up to this for so long, and who cared when he’d been away from her and now was back? She loved him and he loved her. Right now was for pressing against him, feeling the heat of his skin and the hardness of his body and moulding herself against every inch of him she could feel.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was inside of her and it was electric, her body lit up with sensation with every thrust. She gasped against his mouth. Was this what she’d been missing, all this time? They would have to make up for lost time. Was it the weekend? Did she have any holiday time? Could she just stay here in this moment forever?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m so close, Lucifer,” she told him, gasping against his mouth. “I’m so close —”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He kissed her deeply, one hand tangled into her hair as he moved under her. “Yes, darling,” he panted. He pressed a kiss behind her ear. “Will you wake up for me?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She woke up with a start. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was an ache between her legs, the covers twisted around her and locking in the heat. Chloe kicked them away from her and lay in the middle of the bed, staring up at the ceiling as all those sensations slowly ebbed away.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She listened to the sounds of her apartment: the faint hum of electricity, the whirring of the air conditioner In the other room, and the occasional car going along the road. The world was quiet, dreamlike — hardly dead but not quite living either. There was no one in her bed, no shadowy figure standing against the window.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Lucifer wasn’t here. Lucifer hadn’t shown up at her house in the dead of night and swept her off her feet. They didn’t have a night of passion, or stolen kisses, or heated glances. Lucifer wasn’t here, he’d never be here, and she’d live the rest of her life without seeing him again. And when she died — well, who could say? Maybe she’d loop herself through unimaginable torment, another subject in his vast kingdom. Maybe she’d stand forever on one side of a set of gates in paradise, longing for something just out of reach.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The yawning pit inside Chloe opened a little wider and she curled onto her side, wrapping her arms around herself and pretending, just for a moment, that they belonged to someone else. Tomorrow she would face the world and be strong again. Tomorrow she would go to work, see another crime scene, question another round of witnesses. Tonight, just for tonight, she would let herself mourn the loss of the man she loved.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe sat at her desk and stared at the pile of paperwork in front of her. What would happen if she just… knocked it over? She could stand up suddenly and shove at the desk. She could swing her bag a little too carelessly. And then the mountain of folders and paper and little multicoloured sticky notes would crash to the ground and cover the floor. Would her colleagues rush to help her clean up? Would she be left alone to sort all the papers back into their folders and neat little piles?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was contemplating the likelihood of Davis noticing a few extra folders on his desk when Ella emerged from her lab.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, Chloe!” Ella said, popping up beside her with a little too much cheer for her taste. “It’s Friday! What do you say we hit the town tonight? Tribe night? Do some karaoke? Add in some tequila?” She bounced a little, already excited for the upcoming night she was imagining.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The only thing Chloe could imagine when it came to hitting the town was Lux. Lux and partying and being carefree — that was Lucifer’s domain. <em>Had been</em> Lucifer’s domain. It felt wrong to even think about it, not when Lucifer wasn’t able to host any parties of his own.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Besides, a girl’s night out meant inviting Maze, and, well, Hell hath no fury like a demon who got left behind by the Devil and her maybe potential girlfriend. Maze was hurting right now, but Chloe was hurting too. They were both upset about Lucifer’s departure, albeit for very different reasons. She didn’t think their pain was all that compatible at the moment.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">None of this had anything to do with Ella, of course. It wasn’t her fault she had to share her friend with a ghost.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, thanks, Ella,” said Chloe. “That sounds great, but I’ve got Trixie this weekend. Dan’s dropping her off tonight.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s totally cool! We can still go out and have a great time all together! We could go see a movie, or go out for burgers at that really great diner. Some nice, clean, family-friendly Friday night fun!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know. It’s been a really long week, you know? And Trixie probably doesn’t want to hang out with her mom so much anymore. She’s growing up.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re totally still cool!” Ella insisted, shoving lightly at her shoulder. “I’m sure she’d love it! Come on, it’ll be so much fun. Three ladies, hitting the town together!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, I’m sorry, I think I have to stay in. I’ve got this huge mountain of paperwork and I have to do laundry and a whole bunch of other little things.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Come on, Chloe…”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe’s eyes were itchy and her throat was burning. There was a horrible pressure building behind her eyes. Was it the paper? Was she allergic to paper now? She put her head in her hands.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Aw, babe, don’t cry,” said Ella. “Come here.” She pulled Chloe into a hug.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">To her mortification, Chloe felt her eyes well up and spill over. Was this seriously what she had been reduced to? Crying on Ella’s shoulder just because she missed a man? Planning her life around the best ways to mope for him?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m so going to kick Lucifer’s ass the next time I see him,” Ella was saying, stroking her hair. “He had to go home, but like, what, he can’t pick up a phone once in a while? Hasn’t figured out how to video call someone? Nobody makes my girl cry like this and gets away with it. What a jerk. We should steal his car.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“N-no,” Chloe sniffled, drawing back and wiping at her eyes. “It’s not his fault.” Ella muttered something combative under her breath. “It’s complicated. He’d be here if he could. I’m just having a bad day.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Which is exactly why we need to have fun tonight,” said Ella, squeezing her hands. “You don’t let your girl wallow in misery when she needs your help. I’m talking dance party, virgin margaritas, and painting each other’s nails.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She had to admit, that did sound like fun. While it would be a whole lot easier to sit on the couch and mope into a glass of wine, it would be much less productive or healthy in the long run. Chloe gripped Ella tightly. “Thanks, Ella.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Literally any time, girlfriend,” said Ella. “You say the word and I’m there.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe gave a watery smile. “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She took a moment to close her eyes and take a deep breath. She had friends, she had family, she had people she loved and who loved her. She was going to be fine.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And if that little ball of loneliness in her gut wouldn’t go away in time, well — she’d survived worse.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe couldn’t help herself — she swung through Lux on her way home from work.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was a bad habit she hadn’t figured out how to break, or even if she wanted to break it. Sometimes she sat at the bar and had a drink; sometimes she went up to the penthouse to exist in Lucifer’s space for a while. On the occasions that she was alone for the weekend, she found herself sleeping in Lucifer’s bed. She couldn’t bear to cover the furniture in white sheets again, but there was a cleaning crew that came through once a week to make sure everything stayed in top shape.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, but it was just a crutch. Just for the moment. She’d wean herself off of it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Eventually.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As she stepped into the club and made her way across the floor, she discovered that she wasn’t the only one who had decided to take refuge in Lux that evening.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, Amenadiel,” Chloe said. “How are you doing?” She slid into the seat beside him. The bartender put a glass of whiskey in front of her — two fingers, neat, just the way Lucifer took it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She swirled the liquid in her glass and took a sip. There was good whiskey, and then there was whatever liquid gold Lux managed to get its hands on. She tried not to think about how much a bottle of this stuff actually cost.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Amenadiel sighed gustily, hunched over his drink. “I’m fine,” he said in a way that clearly meant he was not.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Charlie keeping you up? I remember when Trixie was that young. I don’t think I slept properly for a year.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He straightened up and puffed out his chest. “On the contrary, I find the responsibility quite invigorating.” She raised an eyebrow. He deflated a bit. “I suppose I’m a little morose.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“None of my family has come to visit,” he confessed glumly. “I thought for sure my siblings would want to meet Charlie — it’s the first time anyone’s had a nephew, after all. But no one has come by. I’d take him up to the Silver City, but Linda is — reluctant.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She hasn’t let that baby out of her sight, has she?” Not that Chloe could blame her. If Trixie had been kidnapped at just a few days old by some demons who wanted to perform a ritual to send her to Hell and make her the king, well — she might not have put her daughter down ever again. No one could blame Linda for being a bit clingy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ve seen fortresses with less security than Maze has put in place.” He sighed again. “I understand her concerns, but I want Charlie to grow up knowing his family. His life is going to be completely different from anyone who has come before. He should have a balance of influences.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She considered this. “Have you invited them here? Maybe they’re being respectful and waiting for an invitation.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He snorted. “Respectful is not a word I would use to describe my siblings.” He tossed back the rest of the contents of his glass. “They’re probably afraid of me. I <em>did</em> get into a fight with Remi.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Remi?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My sister, Remiel. She felt very strongly that Charlie should be raised in the Silver City. We duelled on the matter. I was victorious, obviously.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uh-huh,” Chloe said. Sometimes it was easier just to nod and smile.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But I’m concerned that my order for her not to lay a hand on my son was interpreted a bit too widely.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well,” she said, lifting her glass to him. “I don’t have any siblings, but if I did, I’d want to be involved in their lives. I’d want to celebrate the birth of their children. I think you should reach out. You never know.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“To family,” he said in response. They clinked their glasses together.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Interlude: Labyrinthine Construct</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lucifer searches for an old city in Hell and receives some news from home.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">From his throne that towered over the labyrinthine construct that was Hell, Lucifer surveyed his kingdom.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Masses of black rock jutted out in irregular patterns, concealing doors to cells occupied by damned souls. Although not quite as strictly segregated as was widely believed — that was Dante’s idea of celestial justice, not Lucifer’s — the cells were grouped together in a vague semblance of order according to the nature and severity of the guilt of their occupants. Lesser evils and lesser punishments existed at the far reaches of the kingdom. The worst were located in the area surrounding Lucifer’s throne, that they might be graced with the Devil’s personal attention.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was not so often these days that he ventured into the cells himself. Hell was far too sprawling, too densely populated for him to give individual attention to tyrants these day. There were demons to take care of that.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Not that Lucifer could actually see any demons. Any demons were out of sight, sequestered away behind closed doors. They tended to avoid him these days, wary of the wrath he had unleashed on Dromos and his followers upon his return to Hell. No doubt they were all tucked neatly away in their little hidey-holes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There were no obvious signs, but Lucifer knew that there were demon settlements lurking in the depths below. It had been some time since he’d been back, and Hell was nothing if not ever-changing. The places where his demons had dwelled previously would no doubt be gone, destroyed in one of the many squabbles that broke out from time to time.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once there was a fairly sizeable demon city called Dis. In his long time as king it had burned down, collapsed, and been rebuilt countless times. He wouldn’t be surprised if it had crumbled once again and shifted to a new location during his time away. It might be a challenge to find. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Humans were so ostentatious with their towering skyscrapers and sprawling suburbia; demons, however, preferred to tunnel down. Their above-ground structures were few. They were cunning in their ability to tuck the entrances in amongst the cracks and crevices that were next to impossible to identify from the air. He’d have no choice but to walk along the halls themselves.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He would need to reestablish his rule and find his supporters among the demons. Their loyalty had been hard won over millennia of bloodshed and power struggles, and no doubt there were those that would still pledge themselves to him even after such a long absence. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This was where a demon at his right hand would be useful.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Perhaps it had been a mistake, leaving Mazikeen behind. They had stood together for so long, Hell almost felt empty without the knowledge that she was present. He had allies among the demons—at least he <em>had</em>, anyway—but none that he trusted as much as her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But no, she’d spent so long building her life on Earth and finding a place she belonged — it would have been cruel of him to yank her away. He’d already pulled her from her home once before; it wouldn’t have been fair to ask her to uproot herself once again.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He sighed. There was nothing for it. Time to get up close and personal with his realm. He spread his wings and grimaced at the feeling of ash raining down on them. With a final fortifying breath, he launched himself from the throne and landed on the streets below.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was quiet.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hell had a bad reputation for being filled with screams, but the reality was quite the opposite. The whole place was nothing if not oppressively silent. Even the echo of his feet against the stone was swallowed up in the silence.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Lucifer swept through the streets of Hell. If he was looking for Dis, the best place to start was where it had been located before.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was easy enough for him to traverse the great swathes of distance; Hell had a way of bending to his will and making the endless reach of the realm collapse in on itself. Within moments he found himself stepping through the crevice that lead down to the infamous demon city.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The staircase spiralled downwards, narrow and steep. The stone was polished smooth after countless ages of use, the steps dipping slightly in the centre to show the path most commonly walked. Just as he found himself getting annoyed with the constant turning in circles, he reached the end.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">An abyss opened up before him. The stairs continued their way down into the darkness and out of sight. Caves branched out from the abyss, their openings visible. He knew that those were the homes of the demons, with the wealthy and elite dwelling at the very bottom of the pit. It was not a perspective Lucifer personally understood, despite Maze’s repeated explanations that the bottom was where you could see all your enemies coming for you and prepare for the attack.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Lucifer had no interest in the dwellings; he turned right and followed the path along the edge until he reached a cavern. A building perched precariously on the edge of the abyss. He reached out and tapped his nails against its side; it was constructed of bone and hide and just as grisly as he remembered.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was also quiet, which was not at all how things should be. Dis was the one place where one could reasonably find a drink, a game, or a fight — or all three at once, which was how the demons liked it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We’re closed,” said a gruff voice in Lilim.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Lucifer turned to the speaker. “I’m surprised, Beliaal,” he said. “I didn’t realize it was possible for you to close down.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Beliaal swept into a bow. “My Lord, I did not realize it was you. I would be honoured if you would take a drink here.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Surprisingly, I’m not after a drink,” Lucifer said. “I’m looking for Dis. This iteration seems to have been abandoned.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Beliaal shook his head. “Abandoned, no, my King,” he protested. “Dis is flourishing.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Lucifer cast around. “And yet, not a demon in sight. Where are they?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Resting. Or working! Everyone is so eager to complete their duties to your satisfaction, my Lord.” He bowed once more.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Resting? Demons didn’t like to rest. A demon’s idea of a nice rejuvenating weekend was hunting and skinning one of the many large Hell beasts that roamed the edges of the city. They certainly weren’t the type to curl up with a good book and a mug of tea.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You had better not be lying to me, Beliaal,” Lucifer rumbled. He turned on his heel and left Beliaal to insist on his innocence.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A fight would be one thing. Or a great demon uprising. That was the Hell that he knew, the Hell he had given up everything to return to. Demons, hiding away in their little underground cities, minding their own business and not slaughtering each other?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Now that was troubling.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My King!” A demon, a young one by the looks of it, burst from the shadows. “I have a message for you. It’s urgent. A soul has arrived, from that place you said was important. From Los Angeles. He mentioned the name Chloe Decker.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hearing her name brought forth a surge of emotions. As he let them wash over him, he could imagine, just for a moment, that she was somewhere happy without him. She had her spawn and her friends and her work and all of her blazers; she would be fine without the Devil trailing after her. She might even meet someone new, probably someone very dull, like an accountant or a vegan, who took her for walks on the beach and never drank and certainly never tortured the guilty.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He flattened his feelings. Hell was not the place to indulge in sentiment.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Then by all means,” said Lucifer, drawing the demon out of the city. “Let us meet our newly departed friend.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Lone Ranger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Chloe gets called to the scene of a crime.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for everyone who is reading, commenting, and leaving kudos! I hope you're enjoying this little journey with me.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Lucifer’s lawyer was clearly a man who was not used to hearing the word <em>no</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know how many more times we have to have this conversation, Ms. Decker,” Mr. Jones told her. “Mr. Morningstar made himself quite clear. He wished for a complete transfer of his financial assets over to you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe moved some files around on her desk just to have something to do with her hands, and resolutely did not look at him. “This is ridiculous,” she said firmly. “He’s not <em>dead</em>. You’re over-reacting.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’d refused to go to his office to see him, and had started ignoring his phone calls, so she probably only had herself to blame when he’d shown up at her work. Still. She had <em>boundaries</em>. And she was a detective. She couldn’t just entertain lawyers all day long. She might have cases that needed her attention.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Alright, so she didn’t, but she <em>might</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s not my job to decide whether it’s ridiculous or not,” Mr. Jones said. “My job is to follow through with Mr. Morningstar’s wishes regarding his assets. The paperwork is in order. All you need to do is sign.” He unclasped his briefcase threateningly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The fact that the paperwork was in order was a disturbing fact she didn’t want to think too hard about. Just how long ago had Lucifer set this up? That was a particularly dark and morbid rabbit hole she didn’t want to venture down. She probably wouldn’t like the answer.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t need to do anything,” she told him. “What happens when Lucifer comes back and he doesn’t have access to any of his money, hm? Is he just supposed to wear, what, off the rack suits and drink bottom shelf whiskey? I don’t think so.” She turned to her computer and clicked around randomly on the desktop. Perhaps if she started to make phone calls, he would leave her alone.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Mr. Jones waved a small stack of paper in front of her screen. “Here is a summary of Mr. Morningstar’s various holdings.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She snatched the papers from where he was dangling them in front of her, and immediately regretted it. There were a terrifying number of zeros on the first page. Chloe slammed the whole thing face-down on her desk.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s barely left the city,” she repeated. “He’s been away for a couple of months. That's it! He’s gone on benders that have lasted longer than this. I am not signing any paperwork.” She shoved the pile across the desk at him. “I don’t care how many pieces of paper you wave in my face.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The lawyer sniffed and tapped his paperwork down on her desk, neatening it back into an even stack. “I’ll be back, Ms. Decker,” he announced ominously. “I hope you’ll be more amenable after another week or two.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I doubt it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” She gathered up her things — a couple of random folders that had no significance — and marched into Ella’s lab. She closed the blinds for good measure and squinted at Mr. Jones through a crack until he packed up his briefcase and left the way he came.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What was all that about?” Ella asked, coming up to peer through the blinds with her. She had obviously been listening and didn’t seem the slightest bit guilty about it. “Why is Lucifer giving you everything?” Her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open. “Chloe! Did Lucifer <em>die</em>?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No,” Chloe said. “Don’t be ridiculous, he’s — he’s fine. He just had to go back home to take care of some things and he’ll be away for a while, that’s all.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But — he’s okay?” Ella asked, sounding dubious. Chloe couldn’t blame her. Everything about it was suspicious.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, you know what he’s like,” she told her, waving her hand. “He’s making a big deal out of it and being as dramatic as possible. He’ll come waltzing back in here one day as if nothing happened. He’s done the exact same thing before. And if I sign some stupid piece of paper, who’s going to have to listen to him complain about not having enough money to buy premium cocaine? Me. So I’m not signing anything. He’ll be back.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Right,” said Ella. She gave an uneasy smile. “I mean, couldn’t you just call him? Or text him? That way you can get the whole issue cleared up. It’s not like he just dropped off the face of the earth.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe forced out a laugh. “Well, actually, there’s no reception where he is, so he’s sort of out of touch for the foreseeable future.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ooof,” said Ella, shaking her head in sympathy. “That sounds like hell.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” said Chloe. “It sure is.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ve gotten so addicted to my phone. Not even doing anything productive, just mindlessly scrolling…”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was a rap against the door and Lieutenant Snyder entered.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Decker,” he said. “A body’s dropped. It’s yours. Lopez, grab your kit and head down there with her.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“On it!” chirped Ella, and dashed off to collect her things. Chloe stood up and made to head out of the precinct.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Aren’t you forgetting something, Decker?” called Snyder. When she looked back, he nodded in the direction of the break room. She winced.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Haven’t forgotten, sir,” she said, squaring her shoulders.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Everybody has a partner, Decker,” he said. “<em>Everybody</em>. I know your old consultant was your partner before, but he’s not here anymore. Nobody is a lone ranger here. Take Matthews with you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe nodded, not trusting herself speak, and went to collect her new partner.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Benjamin</em>. Vehemently not Ben, or Benny — Ella had already made that mistake and received an earnest correction and half of the man’s life story in exchange.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It wasn’t that Benjamin Matthews was a <em>bad</em> partner, it was just — he was a rookie, alright? They’d only been working together for about a week and she wanted to roll her eyes right out of her head every time he opened his mouth. Everything he knew about being a detective seemed to have been pulled straight from a bad cop movie. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Besides, she already had a partner. Lucifer was going to throw an absolute fit when he got back and saw he’d been replaced. No, not replaced, just temporarily displaced. He would probably disappear into Lux for days and drink the place dry until she went to go fish him out — that, or terrorize the poor man just for having the misfortune of having been assigned as her partner. The whole situation with Benjamin was a temporary measure at best. It would only last until Lucifer strolled back in.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And she didn’t want a new partner. She was used to doing things on her own. She didn’t need some rookie detective coming in and messing up her system. Like him telling her how to drive the car. Or trying to control the radio. Or pointing out a parking spot.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What do we have, Ella?” Benjamin said as they entered the crime scene together, snapping on a pair of latex gloves and crouching down beside the body. He was still wearing his sunglasses, for God’s sake. They were <em>inside</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The murder victim lay facedown in a pool of his own blood. His long brown hair had fallen into the blood and begun to congeal.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jason Philips,” said Ella. “He’s the owner of the store. One of his employees came to work this morning and found the door unlocked and his body on the floor. Vic is all slashed up — looks like some kind of knife.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Probably a robbery gone wrong,” said Benjamin. He took off his sunglasses and tucked them into the collar of his shirt. “Some lowlife looking for extra money.” He squinted down at the body. “Money is always a solid motive.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe shook her head. “But not the only possible motive. We have to speculate based on the actual evidence, not with what you imagine is most likely.” She checked behind the counter. “This place wasn’t robbed. There’s still cash in the register. Besides, you wouldn’t hit up a bookstore if you’re in need of cash — they’re not exactly famous for doing well. We’ll have to speak to the employee to see if we can establish any other leads. Ella, do we have a time of death?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The coroner will have to confirm, but I’d guess sometime between eleven and twelve last night.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What was he doing here so late?” Benjamin asked. “That’s suspicious if you ask me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The sign in the window puts the closing hours at nine p.m.,” Chloe said, flipping the sign around. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her eyes caught on a figure standing across the street. He stood under the awning of the shop slightly to the left, well back from the caution tape that had been set up.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She would recognize that figure anywhere, but it couldn’t be — there was no way that Lucifer would show up here now — </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Chloe?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She shook her head, snapping herself out of it. There was no one across the street. She squinted out the window for a moment, then drew herself back into the conversation. First the dreams, and now this. No sense losing it right in the middle of a crime scene. She could have her breakdowns in respectable places like showers or walk-in closets.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He could’ve stayed late to restock, or do inventory, or work on accounting,” Chloe said. “Not so strange for an independent business owner to pull some late nights. Thanks, Ella. Let us know if you find anything else.” She moved off to speak to the witness. Benjamin stood up hastily and followed behind.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The bookstore employee was a small, skinny woman. Chloe knew from experience that size didn’t correlate to strength or ability, but this woman looked at if she’d struggle to fight off a breeze.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re one of Jason’s employees, right?” Chloe asked her. “You found him this morning?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Amanda,” the woman said, wringing her hands. “Yeah, I came in for my shift this morning at nine and there he was. I’ve never seen a dead body before…”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can imagine how hard this is for you,” said Benjamin intently. “My partner and I are going to do everything in our power to find out what happened. We will punish those responsible.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The word ‘punish’ threw her for a moment. Chloe blinked and cleared her throat. “When was the last time you saw Jason alive?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yesterday afternoon when he came in. I work from nine to three, and then he comes in at three and works until closing. I mean, worked.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We think the time of death is between eleven and twelve last night,” said Benjamin. “Can you think of why he’d be here at that time?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He would stay late sometimes,” said Amanda. “He does all of the bookkeeping himself. And we get shipments of new books on Tuesday afternoons, so he always stays late then.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can you account for your whereabouts at that time?” Chloe asked.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“At eleven at night? I was at home, asleep,” said Amanda. “I have a five year old son. I’m lucky if I stay awake past nine-thirty.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is there anyone who can confirm that?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Umm — maybe my neighbour? I saw her when I took out the garbage last night after dinner. Other than that, no — I just live with my son. I’m separated from my husband.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We’ll need to confirm your alibi with your neighbour, and we’ll need you to stay in town while the investigation is ongoing. Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt Jason?” Chloe asked. “An ex, or a business rival perhaps?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We’re an indie bookstore, you know?” said Amanda. “We’re trying to compete with Amazon, not anybody else. We can keep the lights on, but that’s about it. I don’t think Jason even had a girlfriend. Although…” She chewed on her lip uncertainly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes?” Benjamin prompted.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Some of those delivery guys are really sketchy,” Amanda said. “Usually the deliveries come in the afternoon, but sometimes they come a little early while I’m still here, and they’re pushy. Something seems off about them.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did they ever get into a fight?” asked Benjamin. Amanda shook her head no.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can we see one of the shipments?” Chloe asked. “Even just where they go, or one of the slips.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Amanda lead them to the back room and flipped on the light. She frowned. “Huh, that’s weird,” she said. “It’s all still here. Jason didn’t unpack it last night.” She took a box cutter and cut away the tape.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, let us —” started Chloe, but it was too late.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Amanda straightened, a kilo of cocaine visible between the flaps of the box. “Uh,” she said.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p2">“So let’s say I’m a bookstore owner who sells drugs as a side hustle,” said Ella. “Who would want to kill me, and why?”</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tons of people,” said Benjamin. “Drug addicts, other dealers. Random people passing by who saw an opportunity. Could be anyone.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe closed her eyes to try to stop herself from rolling them. “Well, we need to bring that number down from everyone in LA to something we can work with,” she said. “And I don’t think he was dealing directly. I think he may have been using the bookstore to distribute.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What, to dealers?” said Benjamin.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sure,” said Chloe. “He got a new supply in once a week. It’d be easy to have dealers come by the store during open hours and do a hand off. I’ll check in with Narcotics. Maybe they’ve heard some chatter about the store being a front for drug running.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Great idea,” said Benjamin. “Maybe I could take another crack at that Amanda. She may know more than she’s letting on. I bet I could get her to spill.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe tried not to let her eye twitch. She tried, anyway. “We have no real reason to suspect her. She was the one who found the body and called it in, and there’s nothing so far to indicate that she wanted to kill her boss. We still have to verify her alibi, so we can’t rule her out yet. But in the meantime, we have to follow this new lead. The murderer on this case is looking increasingly drug-related.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll get started on the paperwork right away.” He left out the door in a flash. Chloe narrowed her eyes. Nobody was that enthusiastic about paperwork.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s eager,” Ella remarked.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s new. It’ll fade.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He volunteered to do paperwork,” Ella pointed out.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“At least I don’t have to worry about evidence going missing.” She’d meant it to be casual, off-hand, a joke, and it failed completely at all three of those things.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know,” said Ella, patting her gently on the back. “It’s just not the same without Lucifer here.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Interlude: Exude From The Realm Itself</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hell starts to heat up.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hell was hot. That much everyone could agree on.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The source of the heat remained somewhat of a mystery, even for its residents: there was no sun to bake the rocks, and the heat was too all-encompassing to have originated from one of the many volcanoes or lava floes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The heat seemed rather to exude from the realm itself, oozing out of every crevasse and seeping upward from the ground. No one ever got used to the heat, either; every time the body got close to acclimating, the heat went up another notch. Hell was simultaneously a bit different and too hot for everybody.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">On his throne, spiking high in the air above Hell, Lucifer shifted, trying to get more comfortable. It was a hopeless endeavour. Thrones weren’t exactly designed to be comfortable, and the throne in Hell doubly so. On Earth, such a high place would be buffeted by wind, cold and raw and unforgiving. Here there was nothing except the oppressive heat to keep him company as his thoughts drifted to Los Angeles. There most likely wasn’t even anyone sitting on his Italian leather sofa.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was infuriating to be blind to what was going on in his old home. Was everything alright? How were all the people he’d left behind? Was Baby Charlie getting bigger? Did he have wings yet, or any special powers, or was he mostly human? Amenadiel was sure to be cooing about every single one of his facial expressions like the big dopey ponce he was. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And the detective. Was the detective safe? Was she happy? Was she eating properly, or was she back to eating those horrible vending machine sandwiches? Was she pounding murderers into the dust?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was these thoughts, more than anything else, that drove him to distraction. There certainly wasn’t enough chaos in Hell to keep him otherwise occupied.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dr. Linda would probably use words like “rash” and “stalking” to explain his most recent behaviour. Maybe it was. He drummed his fingers on the armrest of his throne and internally debated the pros and cons of sending demons to spy on people. Sure, it was <em>invasive</em>, but it was in the name of protection. Humans really went in for that sort of thing. They liked to bang on about guardian angels looking out for them; why couldn’t there be some guardian demons as well?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Something flickered in his peripheral vision. He turned towards it, frowning. Very little ever interrupted the bleak landscape of Hell.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In the distance he could see one of the outer districts of Pandaemonium. There wasn’t much going for it besides an eery little shantytown where demons who worked closest to his palace gathered to blow off steam — whether it would be fighting or fucking was anyone’s guess. It was generally too depressing to bother with, but the demons enjoyed it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was burning.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The flicker of flames was a distinct orange glow against the otherwise dreary backdrop. Sparks shot high in the air, mingling with the ash that rained down.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was entirely possible that it was just the demons having a bit of fun — nothing like setting fire to a building to really get their engines going — but it was worth checking out, all the same. It was his job to keep tabs on the demons, after all, including why and how often they burned things down.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As he touched down near the flames, he listened for the sound of fighting.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Only the crackle of bones, flesh, and sinew met his ears as the flames devoured the buildings. A fresh wave of putrid stench washed over him as the temperature rose even higher.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Lucifer frowned. This was all wrong. Demons thought lighting things on fire was the height of entertainment, and yet there was no excited hollering or jeering. He followed the streets closer to the blaze, and met with a group of demons, their faces twisted in anger as they gripped their weapons tightly and paced back and forth before the blaze.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Traitors,” spat one who had claws of a lion. “I’ll burn them alive.” He turned to watch Lucifer approach. “My Lord Lucifer, allow me to track down these disgusting excuses for demons. I’ll rip their entrails from their bodies as they watch.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Getting into arguments so early in the day?” Lucifer asked. He inspected the fire up close. It continued to rage on, eating through the leather hides that made up the walls of the demons’ settlement. “Who started this?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We were ambushed,” another demon told him, her face smeared with soot. “They set fire to the building while we were revelling inside.” She spat on the ground in disgust.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Provoked by your own earlier attack, I’m sure,” Lucifer drawled. Were they humans, he might have accused them of fighting dirty. But these were demons. Backstabbing and ambushing and sneak attacks were just how they went about their business. It was hardly worth keeping track of who was fighting who; their little factions would shift before he flew back to his throne.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Although, come to think of it, it was odd that a demon would start a fire in order to flush out their opponents and then not stick around to finish off the job. Perhaps it was the work of a younger demon who was hoping to demonstrate their pyrotechnic skills.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This is an insult to you, my Lord,” said Lion Claws. “This is Lilith’s work.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He laughed. “Lilith?” he repeated. “I haven’t seen her in an age. Is she still consorting with that demon — you know, the one with the lion’s body but the head of a crocodile? Terrible conversationalist?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Valefor,” grunted another demon. “My father.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Now that you say it, there is something of a family resemblance,” Lucifer told him, eyeing him closely. The demon scratched at his scaly face self-consciously. “Now,” Lucifer resumed, clapping his hands and turning back to the rest of the group, “why would Lilith want to burn down a place with terrible dice tables and even worse alcohol?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She’s been sending her little lackeys around ever since you left on vacation, Lord Lucifer,” the one with the sooty face explained.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Lilim too young and stupid to realize she doesn’t care about them,” muttered Lion Claws.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, but <em>why</em> is she doing this?” Lucifer asked impatiently, adjusting his cufflinks.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The demons looked around at each other, blinking. “I don’t know,” said Scaly, shrugging. “We never thought to ask why.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Lucifer sighed. Typical really — he wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. Trust a demon to fight first and ask questions never. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Then it looks like I’ll be paying a visit to your mother,” he told them, and turned away. He was in luck. Of all the denizens of Hell, Lilith was easy to find.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Terrified of the Zeroes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Narcotics came through,” Benjamin announced triumphantly, putting a file onto Chloe’s desk. She looked up from her computer. He was beaming at her, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet in excitement. She reached for the folder.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There was a hit on the bookstore?” she asked, flipping the file open.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” he said. “Apparently they arrested a low-level drug dealer last week. His name is in there — Evan Russell, that’s it. He told the detectives that he met up with his supplier at the bookstore, but couldn’t — or wouldn’t — give a name.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jason Philips,” she murmured.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Has to be,” he said.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe Jason’s death was about protecting the source of the drugs,” said Chloe. She tapped the spine of the folder down on the desk as she thought. “A drug dealer gave up Jason — or at least the location of the hand-offs — and they figured that Jason would lead the cops back up the food chain. I’ve seen major drug rings do worse for far less.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That would just bring heat down on them, wouldn’t it?” said Benjamin. He crossed his arms and leaned against her desk. “Wouldn’t they guess that the truth would get out eventually, and it would be better for them to see if the whole thing blew over?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“In my experience, major drug cartels don’t wait around,” she said. “And we’ve got nothing. A search of the bookstore and Jason’s home didn’t turn up anything. We don’t have a murder weapon or any witnesses.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What about the employee?” he asked. “Amanda?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She shook her head. “Her neighbour confirmed seeing her in the hallway of their building at seven-thirty of the night in question,” she replied. “It leaves a big gap between then and the time of death, so we can’t rule her out definitively. She had means to enter the building, but there’s just no motive.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There could be a motive we just haven’t figured out,” Benjamin said. “Humans can come up with lots of reasons to kill each other. Maybe they were having a secret affair, or he tried to pull something on her. Wouldn’t be the first time a woman stabbed someone she was sleeping with.” He shrugged.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe squinted at him. He seemed very insistent that Amanda was the one to watch, but there just wasn’t anything tangible to connect her to the murder. Killers weren’t usually the ones to call the police about the dead body. Sure, her alibi was a bit flimsy, but there was no evidence to put her at the crime scene. Still, Chloe was a professional, and she did her due diligence.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I did a background check on her,” she said, gesturing to her computer. “She’s currently separated from her husband — it looks like they’re still legally married, but have been living at separate addresses for the last three years. Amanda has primary custody of their son. That’s about all we’ve got on her.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Primary custody?” said Benjamin, leaning in closer. “Something wrong with the husband? Could he be tied up in this?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe shook her head. “Primary custody just means their son lives with her most of the time — it doesn’t mean he’s a bad parent or that he’s mixed up in anything. I have primary custody of my daughter and she stays with her dad every other weekend and some holidays. It’s a very standard arrangement — gives the child more stability. There’s no reason to suspect the husband of anything bad because of it. And unless we get a new lead that indicates that she had some clear, tangible reason to murder her employer, we have no reason to pursue this line of inquiry.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Benjamin cocked his head and tapped his chin thoughtfully. “So no jilted lover or jealous rage — that doesn’t leave a lot of possible motives left for murder, really. Pretty much the only one left is money.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She clenched her hands into fists. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out, squaring her shoulders and relaxing her hands. “Again,” she said, her voice clipped. “We don’t know yet why he was murdered. Our job is to figure out the reason, not to randomly guess at a motive and hope we get lucky.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He shrugged. “It’s a good guess, though.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A laugh — a very familiar laugh — rang out behind her. She whipped around in her chair, but it was just a couple of uniformed officers standing by the coffee maker. She rubbed at her temple. Just looking at the machine brought in a rush of memories. Lucifer had had it delivered after experiencing the sludge the old one produced and declared it unacceptable, never mind the time-honoured tradition of cops surviving on extremely bad coffee. He’d also set up a weekly delivery of fair trade organic beans. It must still be going, because there was no way the precinct was going to spring for that. There was frequently no room in the budget for paid overtime, let alone luxuries like decent coffee.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Alright, fine, so maybe it wasn’t completely out of the blue to assume that money had something to do with Jason Philips’ murder. It would just be a lot more satisfying to solve a case by actually doing detective work rather than blindly throwing motives at the board and hoping something sticked.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s possible that it was about money,” she said slowly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Benjamin clapped his hands and grinned. “Always a good motive,” he said. “A single mother, living alone with her son — those are a lot of expenses. I’m sure working part time at a bookstore is not enough to cover all that.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s not,” said Chloe. “But if you’re involved with a drug operation on the side, I’m sure that would help make up the shortfall.” She sighed. “Fine. We can speak to Amanda again.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She pushed herself away from the desk.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p2">Chloe hated being proven wrong. It was a thing. She was working on it.</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They found Amanda back in the bookstore, prying a board away from the wall with a hammer. Stuffed into the gap in the wall were several kilos of cocaine.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Amanada,” said Chloe, drawing her weapon.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Amanda whirled around. “Oh my God!” she said, her eyes moving frantically around the room. “You’ll never guess what I found! I remembered seeing this fake wall before, and I wanted to come see what was here…”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We know you killed Jason,” said Benjamin, advancing on her slowly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Amanda shook her head frantically, clutching the hammer to her chest as if it were a lifeline. “I didn’t. I didn’t.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We get it,” said Chloe. “Maybe you wanted in on drug running. Maybe you wanted a bigger slice of the pie. And he wouldn’t give it to you, so you killed him.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, that’s not what happened,” said Amanda. She was shaking from head to toe. “I didn’t kill him. I would never. He was my boss.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Come with us, and tell your side of the story,” said Chloe. “Just put the hammer down.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I —” Amanda swallowed, and the hammer fell to the ground with a clatter. “You don’t know what it’s like,” she said, eyes impossibly wide and welling up. “I’ve got rent and food and school expenses — it’s just too much to handle. The divorce is taking forever and my husband is fighting paying child support — I just wanted a little extra cash, that’s all.” Her shoulders shook.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know,” said Chloe. “You just wanted to be able to support your kid. I get it. I really do.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But I didn’t kill him,” she sobbed, her eyes spilling over. “I swear. I swear on my kid’s life. The drugs, yes, I’ve been involved in that since the beginning. But I would never kill Jason, alright? We were business partners.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Benjamin pulled out his handcuffs and stepped towards her, spinning her around and clasping them around her thin wrists with the ease of practice. “We’re taking you down to the station. You’ll tell us the whole story there.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe holstered her weapon as Amanda was loaded into the car. A crowd began to gather on the sidewalk as passers-by stopped to gawk at the sight of someone being arrested and bundled into a cop car.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She rounded the back of the vehicle, heading towards the driver’s side, when she stopped short, all of her attention honed in on the person standing across the street.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Lucifer</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">One moment he was there, standing in the shadows of a store entrance, and the next he was gone. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Before she knew it, she was across the street. There was nothing there, no trace of him, nothing to show he’d been there. He’d been right there, looking at her. She looked up and down the sidewalk, but there was no sign of him; there was no one disappearing around a corner or ducking into a shop.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She blinked and pressed the heels of her palms to her face. Had he even been there to begin with? She was probably just imagining it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Decker?” Benjamin called from the car. “Everything alright?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She opened her eyes once more and blinked against the harshness of the sun. Time to stop daydreaming and get back to reality — namely, helping her partner actually wrap up this case.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe was elbow-deep in paperwork when she chanced a look up and saw Lucifer’s lawyer walking across the bullpen towards her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Look, I really don’t have time to get into another argument with you right now,” she said, closing her eyes. “So if you could please just go, that would be great.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mr. Morningstar told me, should you prove to be obstinate, that I was to give you this,” Mr. Jones said, passing her a piece of paper. “He thought this may change your mind.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, I’ve seen the numbers,” she said, continuing to type on her keyboard and not lifting her head. “I’m terrified of the zeroes.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just look, Ms. Decker.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She huffed but looked down. It looked like another account statement. She crossed her eyes slightly to avoid looking at all of the details. “What am I looking at?” she asked impatiently.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Look at the owner of the account,” he said, tapping his finger at the top of the page.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She examined the paper again, and her heart thudded in her chest at the name at the top: Beatrice Espinoza. “This is for Trixie?” she said, her heart in her throat. Her hand brushed over her daughter’s name as her eyes drifted down to the account particulars. There were a lot of zeroes on this paper, too.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mr. Morningstar set up a $20 million trust fund for Miss Espinoza,” he said. “She is set to gain control of it at age 25 — he wanted to give it to her immediately, but I convinced him that 25 was the standard age to receive such an amount and that a young child might not have the best money-managing skills. It took quite a bit of time to win that argument.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe choked out a laugh and felt her respect for the man grow. Anyone who could talk Lucifer out of a rash decision was someone to keep around.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He named you as the trustee of the account,” Mr. Jones continued. “You can make withdrawals on behalf of Miss Espinoza for education, medical, travel, and the like.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There’s more than $20 million here,” Chloe pointed out, unable to think of anything else to say.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s accrued some interest over the past couple of years, yes,” said Mr. Jones.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Years?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The account has been active since 2017, I believe,” he said.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe didn’t want Lucifer’s money; she didn’t have any desire for a mansion or a fancy car or designer handbags. She’d rather have her partner back with her, sharing in her life, than anything his money could buy her. Sure, it would be nice to have a bit more wiggle room in her budget; she had put a dent in her savings taking Trixie to Europe for a month, and Maze moving out had left her to cover the cost of a three-bedroom apartment alone. A detective’s salary — even with child support from Dan — left little room for extras. She’d had to be pretty stingy for the past year, on top of having to be frugal in general.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She had never shared any of her money woes with Lucifer. He would have just given her the money without a moment’s thought, which was exactly why she’d never said anything. No doubt this whole scheme to transfer his wealth to her had been hatched with no critical thinking and certainly without consulting her about it. She didn’t even like asking her own mother for help; moving into her mother’s beach house after her separation from Dan had been an act of desperation. Besides, her mother, while prolific in the 80s, was hardly raking it in these days. She mostly lived off of what she made on the convention circuit, the odd guest star appearance on cult sci-fi shows, and any investments she had made in her youth. She was doing fine, but she couldn’t afford to subsidize her daughter’s life.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But Trixie didn’t have to inherit her mother’s financial problems. She could get a first-class education without ever having to go into debt. She could take a year off and travel the world. She would never have to choose between a visit to the dentist and new work shoes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And all this, a drop in the bucket, just for Trixie. Lucifer’s wealth was enormous. If this money was able to irrevocably change the life of one person, what could it do for others? What could it do for women like Amanda? </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe had been so focused on denying any suggestion that Lucifer might not be coming back that she’d forgotten something important: this money could help people.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fine,” she told the lawyer. “I’ll sign.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Really?” he scrambled to reshuffle his papers and pulled a familiar folder out of the stack. “I just need you to sign in a few places, and it’s a done deal.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just so you know,” she warned as she flipped through the document, scrawling her signature on the lines he’d helpfully marked with sticky notes, “most of it is going to charity.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mr. Morningstar asked me to put together a list of suitable foundations and organizations,” Mr. Jones said, beaming. “We can arrange a time to go over them together, if you like. There are several causes that Mr. Morningstar chose to donate to. I’m sure you’ll have your own ideas or causes you’d like to support. I do suggest making monthly or yearly contributions, no matter what you choose — it provides more stable funding that one-time lump sum donations. And we can go over real estate holdings and investments—”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She put up a hand to stop him. She was already starting to get a headache. “Maybe we can set up a time to meet,” said Chloe, slightly dazed.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Of course,” he laughed. “Don’t mind me — I just get very excited about money management.” He took back the forms. “Congratulations, Ms. Decker.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It didn’t feel good, not exactly — it mostly felt like nothing had changed. But if she were able to help people, wasn’t that what it was all about, in the end?</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p2">Benjamin swung past her desk on his way out of the precinct. “Don’t worry, Chloe,” he said cheerfully. “We’ll get there. Bringing Amanda in was a great move. No doubt the real killer will be complacent and all the more easier to catch.”</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She didn’t want to tell him that wasn’t really the way murderers worked; he looked too upbeat about the whole situation. There were too many tough days on the job not to embrace the positivity when it came along. And while they hadn’t caught their killer yet, Benjamin had been right about Amanda’s involvement and the ties to the money. She had to foster the skills and intuition of budding young detectives, not shoot them down.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Listen, Benjamin,” said Chloe. “I’m sorry that I’ve been a bit short recently — I’ve been going through something personal. It doesn’t have anything to do with you and it’s not fair for me to treat you badly. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No worries,” said Benjamin, placing a hand over his heart. “I’ve got lots of siblings. I’m used to getting pushed around. I didn’t even notice you being mean.” He hesitated. “You’re upset — it’s your old partner, right? I’ve heard some of the other people here talk about him.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” said Chloe. “We worked together for four years, but, uh, he had to go back home really suddenly.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That sucks,” said Benjamin sympathetically. “Was is like, a green card problem, or something?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Something like that.” She smiled tightly. “I’ve been hoping that he’ll come waltzing back in here one day like nothing’s changed, but he won’t. He’s never coming back, and it’s time that I accept that.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You never know. If he can’t come here, maybe you could take a vacation and go see him. It’s not the same as working together, but it’s better than nothing.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe smiled a bit wider, even though she knew that could never happen. “Maybe you’re right.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“See? Not so bad, right?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I suppose so.” She let out a breath. “Maybe we could grab a drink. You know, to celebrate our first case as partners.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’d like that,” Benjamin said, smacking his hand against her desk in delight. “Let me just grab my things.” He bounced off. Chloe shook her head, and followed.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. An Inter-Dimensional Argument</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lucifer's superpower is annoying Chloe from a different plane of existence.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Later that night, Chloe sat cross-legged on her bed as she flipped through the summary of Lucifer’s financial holdings — now <em>her</em> financial holdings. It was honestly staggering. Bank accounts, properties, investments, shares: the Devil seemed to have his hand in a little bit of everything. Moreover, she was certain this did not represent the full scope of it. There was no doubt more squirrelled away in other countries or in safes somewhere. She knew for a fact there was a pile of cash and gold in the penthouse safe, and she was equally certain that wasn’t an anomaly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was a summary of investments to different markets and businesses, as well as charitable contributions. She had told him off previously for not donating to charity, but truthfully there was a very long list of giving going back years. Lucifer was a top tier donor for various arts organizations around the globe and funded several scholarships. At a glance, he appeared to favour music — no great surprise there. He gave a hundred thousand dollars each year to the LA Philharmonic alone. Chloe wasn’t sure she’d ever even been to one of their performances.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She flipped to the properties. There was a substantial list of real estate holdings, with Lux at the top of the list, as well as some homes dotted around the country and the world. There was a flat in London, a house in Australia, and what appeared to be a château and vineyard in France. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was also a very, very familiar address.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was jabbing the contact information for Lucifer’s lawyer before she was even aware of what she was doing. Her whole body fizzed with anger. She was trembling as she lifted the phone to her ear. The rings were strangely loud and shrill in her ear.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good evening, Ms. Decker!” chirped Mr. Jones when he answered the call. “How can I be of assistance this evening?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How long has Lucifer owned my apartment complex?” she growled at him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was dead silence on the other end of the line. “Oh,” he said finally.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, ‘<em>oh</em>’,” she snapped. She gripped the phone so tightly the edges began to dig into her palm, cutting off the circulation. “So how long? Did he buy it before I moved in? After? I mean, did the ink even have time to dry on the agreement before he snatched it up?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The sound of clicking and papers shuffling filtered down the connection. “I don’t have your date of move-in to the unit right here, but, ah, my records indicate the building was purchased in the final quarter of 2016.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So he did.” The anger was morphing into something different, something that burned at her eyes and locked up her throat. “Was that how I got the apartment? Because he bought the building?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It had been such a steal. Considering the size, location, and amenities, the apartment was a bargain. Part of the reason why she hadn’t moved out after Maze was no longer around to help cover the cost was because she wouldn’t be spending much less in a smaller unit in a similar location. The LA rental market was cutthroat. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At the time, she’d assumed that the apartment was so cheap because there had been a murder and the managing company wanted to keep it all quiet. People didn’t like moving into places where the previous tenant was a convicted murderer. Even then, the application process had been a breeze, with barely a phone call and a cheque. It was a lucky break for a single mother with a time-consuming profession that wasn’t exactly high-paying.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But it wasn’t luck. It was <em>Lucifer</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t recall the precise details of that—er—acquisition,” Mr. Jones admitted over the phone. “I can look into the details for you. On the bright side,” he added, clearly trying to inject some positivity into the conversation, “you no longer have to pay rent for the unit, as you are now the landlord, and—”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s fine, thank you,” she said brusquely, and ended the call.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Lucifer just had to stick his meddling little fingers into her living situation. Clearly not content with inserting himself into every other aspect of her life, no, he’d had to go and control something else. Of all the brazen, invasive, manipulative things to do —</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was lucky he was already in Hell or she’d be sending him back there herself.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She should’ve known it was all too good to be true. Her rent hadn’t gone up in the time she’d been there except for the bare minimum. She’d never had any issues getting maintenance work or repairs done, with all her calls and emails to the property management company answered politely and promptly. She’d had an issue with her stove last year and the whole damn thing got replaced with a top of the line gas range. They’d told her all of the units were getting appliance upgrades. They’d <em>lied</em>. At this point she wouldn’t put it past Lucifer to have come into her apartment and broken her stove on purpose so she could get a better one.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The nerve. The absolute, inconceivable nerve of him to buy the apartment building she was living in and then walk around like nothing was wrong. Like he wasn’t her <em>landlord</em>, who she paid rent to every month. Like her entire housing situation didn’t depend on him. All those times she’d told him off for barging in like he owned the place — what a joke. He <em>did</em> own the place.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Did he not feel bad about it? Did he not feel the slightest bit guilty? Did he have no inkling that what he was doing was wrong? Chloe knew that his sense of morality could be skewed at times, but surely even he wasn’t so oblivious as to think that buying her apartment complex and not telling her about it was okay.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And she knew him well enough to know what he would say about the whole affair: he just wanted the best for her; technically he’d never lied to her; and he only owned the property because of a humorous series of events that no one in their right mind could ever possibly believe were true.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She threw down the phone and the stack of papers and stomped through her apartment, which she <em>owned</em> now, apparently. Because Lucifer had bought it, and now she owned everything that Lucifer had owned.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She shouldn’t have found out about this after he returned to Hell and manipulated her into inheriting his money. He should have had the decency to tell her right away and treat her like a person. Lucifer was bad at confrontation, but come one, there had to be some middle ground here.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And he wasn’t even here, so she couldn’t yell at him about it and demand that he explain himself. It was impossible to have an inter-dimensional argument. She glared and stomped her way down the stairs. If she made enough noise with enough intent, he might hear it in Hell and feel ashamed of himself.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ha. Good luck.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mom?” Trixie poked her head out of her room. “Are you okay?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe sighed and rubbed her forehead. Her rage deflated slightly when faced with her daughter. “Yeah, monkey, I’m okay,” she said. “Sorry for walking so loudly. You all done your homework?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m finished. Can I have some hot chocolate?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That sounds like a great idea.” She moved into the kitchen and set the kettle onto the stove and pulled out the container of hot chocolate powder. It was a huge thing she’d bought at Costco, although she could probably afford to buy real, organic, fair trade chocolate now. She could probably buy the whole cacao farm. Trixie would love that.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Upon consideration, she shouldn’t give her daughter any ideas.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Trixie hopped onto a stool. She was getting so big these days, and although she didn’t know it yet, filthy rich. Chloe didn’t know what she should tell her. Let her know she had a trust fund so that she didn’t feel trapped by a lack of money? Keep her in the dark so she would build up an appreciation for hard work? Chloe would put it off for a bit, at least. Maybe do some research and ask for a second opinion. Tell Dan his daughter was a multi-millionaire.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As she scooped chocolate powder into two mugs, a sudden thought crossed her mind. “Hey Trix. Do you still want to paint your room?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Trixie lit up immediately. “Can I?” she gasped. “I thought we couldn’t because we’re renting. Pleasepleaseplease. Can I paint it red? That would be so awesome.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We can paint it,” Chloe said. “It’s okay with the landlord. We can do it on the weekend. But,” she added, seizing on the opportunity, “you have to clean your room first. Really do a thorough job of it. Everything has to be put away, and nothing on the floor, okay? Then we can move your furniture out and paint the room.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She grabbed the kettle from the stove as it began to whistle and poured the water into the mugs, stirring the clumps out of the powder. She pushed a mug towards her daughter and scooped up the other one for herself, enjoying the warmth against her hands. She leaned over to kiss her forehead. “Are you up for watching some TV with me?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah!” Trixie was off like a shot to the couch.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe moved to close the curtains, and for a moment she saw someone across the street. She closed her eyes. “You’re not here,” she muttered. “And even if you were, you really <em>don’t </em>want to be.” When she opened her eyes a moment later, the street was empty once more. She snapped the curtains shut viciously.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She glanced downwards for a moment, then went to join Trixie on the couch.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p2">“Back at square one,” said Chloe glumly, staring down at her desk.</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I still think that Amanda woman knows more than she’s telling us,” said Benjamin, who was on his fifth cup of coffee and not slowing down. It was barely 10am. She squinted at him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She gave us what she could. These operations stay decentralized for a reason, so if someone gets caught, the whole thing doesn’t collapse. She had descriptions.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, but look at them.” Benjamin brandished the sketch artist’s renderings of the drug dealers Amanda had described. “These could be anybody. They’re — humans. They all look exactly the same.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They didn’t, but she wasn’t in the mood to argue. She snatched the drawings away.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I want to go back, talk to the nearby stores. It’s possible one of them is familiar with one of these people. We might even we able to get a name or payment details if they purchased something nearby.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Benjamin frowned. “Alright,” he intoned dubiously, following her out of the precinct.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It wasn’t unusual for murderers to return to the scene of the crime. It was an amateur move, but it wasn’t unusual. As it turned out, an amateur had been the one to kill Jason Philips, and he had made the mistake of returning to the store when it was still an official LAPD crime scene.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Freeze! LAPD!” Chloe called out, pointing her gun towards the back room where they’d seen a figure dart past. Benjamin drew his own weapon beside her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He deserved what he got, man!” screamed the suspect from inside.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What did he deserve?” Benjamin called.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jason stole my money, my drugs, he said he wouldn’t sell me no more, that he was gonna ruin my life. I had to end it! I cut him up! He was gonna do that same to me, the exact same! And now you fucking pigs took it all away!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Evan Russell?” Chloe called, taking a stab in the dark. The drug dealer, the one who’d been arrested and told the police about Jason Philips, seemed as likely as anyone.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What, the guy Narcotics picked up?” Benjamin muttered. She nodded.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck you!” Russell shouted, which seemed confirmation enough.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Come out slowly,” Chloe said. “With your hands —”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He appeared and in an instant a shot rang out. Her body flinched, bracing for an impact that never came. Beside her, Benjamin stepped back from the force of the shot. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her own gun fired in response, putting two bullets into the suspect’s chest; he went down in a crumpled heap, his face catching in the light from outside. His gun clattered away.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was already scrambling for her radio. “Officer down, suspect down, requesting two ambos and back-up at our location —“ She turned fully to Benjamin. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Who was still standing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Who wasn’t holding his wound. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Who was watching her passively as blood dripped down to the floor.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The sight sent panic signals to her body, that base instinct to flee from something <em>not right. </em>Her brain was a beat behind but a much more powerful force. Chloe had met her share of creatures that went bump in the night. Whoever — <em>whatever</em> — Benjamin was, he had better be afraid of her. She levelled her gun at him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Who are you?” she demanded. Demons could be killed. <em>Anything</em> could be killed. She’d have to hope there were enough bullets in her gun to do it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Chloe, it’s alright,” he said, raising his hands hesitantly in the air. “I’ve got on a bulletproof vest, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nobody could take a shot like that, even if they were wearing a vest,” she said. “Which you’re not, because you’re bleeding.” She dipped her weapon slightly to his chest, which was still oozing out blood. “I know you’re not human. I’ll ask one more time. Who are you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The thing wearing Benjamin’s face twisted in confusion. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She held her ground.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Finally, he let out an exasperated sigh and dropped his hands. “I can’t believe I forgot to wail in agony over a bullet,” he groused. “Complete rookie mistake.” Her grip tightened on her weapon and she raised the barrel to take a headshot. “Okay, okay! No need to shoot me again.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re not allowed to be here,” Chloe said, trying not to let her voice shake. This was a demon. He was a demon possessing the body of her partner. “Lucifer banned possession.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, look at you,” the demon crooned. “All familiar with the king. Just don’t tell him you found me out, okay? He’s going to be furious with me. He told me to be subtle.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Lucifer sent you?” she asked around the sudden burning in her throat. “What did you do to Benjamin?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, him?” The demon said, gesturing to the body he was borrowing. “I didn’t do anything to him. He was like this when he got to me. Mugging gone wrong, I guess. Don’t really care. Anyway, don’t worry about him. A <em>rapist</em>. They’re sort of my speciality,” he added, puffing up with pride. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How long —?” She wasn’t sure if she really wanted to know, but she had to know. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hmm, about two weeks? It was total luck, really. He showed up in Hell, I started torturing him —“ he laughed. “It’s actually great, I —”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t need to hear the details,” Chloe interrupted. “Why are you here?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The demon used Benjamin’s face to pout. “Well, poor little Benny let your name slip<em>. </em>He was ranting about how he was LAPD, and his partner was some great detective named Chloe Decker, and I wasn’t going to get away with what I was doing. I mean, very boring stuff. But we were under strict instructions to listen for your name, so I sent a message to Lucifer. He told me to come up here and watch out for you.” He sighed. “I can’t believe I forgot about bullets.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Lucifer told a demon to possess a person?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Lucifer told a demon to possess her <em>partner</em>?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Lucifer told a demon to possess her partner to watch out for her?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What was this? What kind of sick, twisted <em>stalker</em> was he? Buying her apartment building and sending his little demon subjects to follow her around work? Anger twisted through her guts and gripped her from the inside.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are there more of you?” she demanded. “More demons on Earth?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The demon scoffed. “No,” he said. “As if. I’m an <em>actor</em>.” He gestured to the body with a flourish. “This is not something every demon can do.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The sound of sirens broke through Chloe’s haze. They were about to have a big problem on their hands.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You can’t be here,” she told him. “You need to leave this body.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The demon formerly known as Benjamin sighed. “Yeah, I figured,” he said. “Still, it was a good time, right? Earth is fun. I can see why Lucifer enjoys it so much.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And you tell Lucifer that if he <em>ever</em> tries to pull something like this again, I will <em>personally</em> go down to Hell and make his current situation look like a picnic. Understood?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ooooh,” cackled the demon. Benjamin’s mouth grinned in delight. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I <em>said</em>,” she repeated through gritted teeth. “Am I understood?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Something like respect shone in the demon’s eyes. “I like you,” he announced. “I hope I’ll get to see you again. Although you may not want to see me if it comes to that.” And with that, his body collapsed.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In the sudden stillness, she let out a breath and lowered her weapon. As the sirens drew nearer, she took off her blazer, bunched it up, and pressed it against the bullet wounds on Benjamin’s torso.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was a flurry of movement: backup and EMTs arriving, getting checked over herself, giving her statement without using the words ‘demon’ or ‘Hell’, and being taken back home for mandatory leave.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She drifted across her apartment floor to the couch. Where was Trixie? Ah, yes. Still at school. It was barely noon; she’d be there for a few hours yet. It felt like years had passed since they’d drunk hot chocolate and watched TV. Had it only been the night before? </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her fingers drifted over the blanket folded up on the back of the couch, and she rounded the end to sit down on it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe put her head in her hands. Alone, again.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And <em>furious</em>.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Interlude: Sexy Bangs?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lucifer engages in a Hellish conference.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry it's been a while — I had a hyperfixation on something unrelated. You know how it goes.</p>
<p>Please enjoy a short interlude in Hell.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was a figure lurking at the base of Lucifer’s throne. He squinted down to see who it was and sighed. For a creature that mostly made out of spines and thorny protrusions, she was remarkably good at making herself appear small and non-threatening. He propelled himself out of his throne and landed in front of her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Haagenti,” he said curtly. “Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere a bit north of here, hm?” It wouldn’t do to announce their dealings for all of Hell to hear. The walls had ears — sometimes literally. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Haagenti swept into a bow, exposing the thorny protrusions that jutted out along her back. “Forgive me, my king,” she said. “There was — an incident.” She made a vague gesture with her hands and nodded meaningfully at him, as if that cleared everything up.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He raised an elegant eyebrow. “An incident? Do enlighten me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“A —” She mimed a gun with her hands and made a little <em>pew pew</em> sound. “I was forced to abandon the body.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He grimaced. “I suppose it was a foolish idea, anyway,” he murmured, mostly to himself. The problem with sending demons to act as bodyguards was that, well, they were demons. Espionage and subtlety were hardly their strong suits. Haagenti was cunning in her own demonic way, but it was a gamble to assume those skills would translate to Earth. It hadn’t paid off, clearly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He honed back in on the demon. “And the Detective? How is she? Not caught in the crosshairs of your little incident, was she?” He would be <em>displeased</em> if that were the case.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No.” She drummed her fingers together nervously. “But she sort of, hm, found out? About who I was. Why I was there. Who sent me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Lucifer closed his eyes. “And?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Haagenti twitched, shifting from side to side. “She was displeased, my lord. She said you were never to do anything like that again.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That was an understatement if he ever heard one. “I’m certain that’s not all she said.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The demon hesitated, then visibly decided to stick to a ‘don’t shoot the messenger’ mentality. She squared her spiny shoulders and looked him in the eye. “There was mention of — should you do such a thing again — that she would come down here herself, and, well, there was something about a picnic. I don’t think she meant it to be an enjoyable experience. My lord.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It wasn’t altogether surprising that the Detective was furious; she got annoyed easily. She would have to understand, if he ever got the chance to explain it to her, that he’d done it to help her out. The opportunity had been right there. If he couldn’t be with her, at least he look out for her, if in a somewhat limited and vicarious capacity. Besides, demons made great bodyguards. Maze had watched his back for eons, and he had watched hers. It was <em>necessary</em>. Chloe was the one always going on about needing a partner, how she couldn’t do anything without her partner, and he provided one for her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Or at least he had, until his undercover agent got herself <em>shot</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was still a lot of important information to be squared away.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He glared. “<em>And?”</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And what, my lord?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What did she have to say about me?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I — I don’t —”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Does she miss me? Does she talk about me all the time? Does she pine for my company? Come now, don’t hold back.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She, um —” Haagenti squinted up at him pathetically. “She got bangs?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He leaned forward, trying to picture it. “Sexy bangs?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The demon nodded emphatically. “Oh yes, my lord. Very sexy bangs.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I suppose you’re not entirely useless,” Lucifer said with a sigh, waving her forwards. “Come on. Spare no detail. I’m sure there’s more to tell than the Detective’s hair choices, as intriguing as those are. I’ll let you know how things are going down here in return.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Eventful?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Your mother has been trying my patience,” he said, ushering her inside the palace and leading her down to one of his meeting rooms. “Sending her little baby demons to set fires and start fights.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He brought her into one of his meeting rooms: cavernous and echoing, but he had put his own little touches on it. The candles housed in brackets and candelabras ignited as he passed with barely a thought. The furniture was made out of polished black onyx, which wasn’t comfortable but at least was better than the bones and cartilage that made up the furniture in the dwellings of demons. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He settled into a high-backed chair, and the fire pit in the middle of the circular table crackled to life. He gestured for her to take a seat.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She blinked, sinking slowly into a chair at his right side. “Lilith is waging a war?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He scoffed. “I wouldn’t call it a <em>war</em>. Oh, she denies everything, keeps going on about how she’s pregnant and fragile, but there’s been more fighting since I’ve been back than I can keep track of. I’ve done nothing but put out fires since you left. Literally.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Haagenti attempted a shrug. “Lilith is difficult. That’s nothing new.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He humphed and pulled out a stack of parchment. “I suppose.” He had a quill made from one of his own feathers and a small bottle of ink placed in front of him. In truth the parchment was vellum, but it was so much more pleasant to call it by its human name. It wasn’t as if there were any trees in Hell, after all.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had a bad reputation for making people write things in blood, which was a thoroughly baseless accusation. Humans would find the ingredients distasteful — soot, charred bones, and glue mostly — but it was perfectly functional. Humans could be so squeamish about the most ridiculous things.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can speak with her, if it pleases you, my king,” she offered. “And my siblings. They’re young, you say? Perhaps a solid turn on the rack will bring them in line.” She sighed. “When I was young, my elder siblings tortured me mercilessly. It really made me appreciate the finer things in Hell. New demons these days don’t suffer nearly as much as they should, and it shows. There’s nothing quite like a good torture session to really build character.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sure you’ll get them in line,” Lucifer said vaguely, dipping his quill in the well of ink and blotting it against the parchment. “Now. Tell me everything. And don’t leave anything out.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Dull When Viewed From Afar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Chloe gets an upsetting phone call and an unwelcome guest.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>During difficult &amp; dark times, it's still important to rest &amp; recharge &amp; consume art, because that is how we stay sane and live to fight another day.</p>
<p>When you're ready to fight again, remember that #BLACKLIVESMATTER and there are so many <a href="https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/">Ways to Help</a>. Get educated, sign petitions, donate, attend protests — there are all things we can do and ways we can contribute to combatting racism and police brutality. If you are not American, as I am not, I urge you to get involved in your own country &amp; community.</p>
<p>This is our world. Let's do our part to leave to better than we found it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Life trudged on in the wake of Benjamin’s death. There was an investigation, paid leave, and mandatory counselling that left Chloe feeling worse than before. Was she supposed to tell her department-mandated therapist that her partner had in fact been a demon sent to watch out for her by the Devil, who had been her partner for four years? That they’d professed their love for each other, but he’d gone back to Hell, and now they were both taking it badly?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Probably not a great idea.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So she talked out her precinct-safe version of the story, ticked all the boxes, and accepted the leave. No doubt she’d be confined to desk duty when she returned; no one would want to partner with her, not with the string of bad luck that followed her. Cops were a superstitious bunch.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She clattered around her apartment for days on end, cleaning everything in sight and drinking too much coffee while Trixie scrambled to keep out of her vortex. It was a relief when she was cleared to return to work once again.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The world hadn’t yet settled back into some semblance of normalcy when it was thrown into upheaval once again.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe got the call one evening as she was debating over what to make for dinner. She was, despite all the ups and downs, still listed as Dan’s emergency contact.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ella was able to stay with Trixie while she rushed to the hospital — thank God she’d been available and able to drop everything to come over. Lieutenant Snyder and Lewis were already at the hospital when she arrived. They were seated in the waiting area, wearing identical grim expressions.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What happened?” she asked. “Is Dan okay?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The lieutenant shook his head and her heart plummeted into her stomach. “We don’t know much. No one’s come out to speak to us yet.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe wanted to scream; she could feel it clawing its way out of her throat. She wondered if this was how her mother felt, moments before hearing the news of her father’s death but still clinging to the last bit of hope. To have Trixie lose her father to the job, just as she had…</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There was a shooter,” Lewis was saying. “One of my cases. Dan was assisting me with the arrest of a suspect. Her boyfriend lost it, pulled a gun, and started firing. Dan was wearing a vest, but still got hit.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. A vest protected centre mass, but it didn’t cover everything. There were still lots of places to get hit that could prove fatal.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay. Okay,” she said. “Thank you for coming in. I’ll stay with him and keep you updated.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Snyder nodded tightly, and then she found herself on her own, strangely detached from the bustle and beeping of the hospital surrounding her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Waiting was excruciating. She couldn’t decide if it was better to sit or pace, and frequently changed her mind. She looked up every time a doctor or nurse passed through the waiting room, but no one approached her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She looked over at the clock; the second hand ticked over to 9:43. She got up, stretched, perused the meagre vending machine offerings, took a pamphlet at random off the rack, and went back to her seat. She looked up again. It was 9:44.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At last she looked up at the ceiling and huffed.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not generally one for praying,” she said. She glanced around the room, but everyone else was too far away or too immersed in their own waiting journey to pay any attention to her. “And I don’t even know how I feel, what with Lucifer and everything, but —” She swallowed. “If You’re listening, Dan could really use a hand right now. I care about him a lot. And I don’t want my daughter to grow up without her dad.” She put her head in her hands and stared at the floor. Ugly linoleum stared back at her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Someone walked in front of her and sat down in the seat to her right. She jerked her head up, intending to rudely ask them to move when there were dozens of empty seats to choose from, but her words died on her lips.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Lucifer</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was here, right beside her, looking at her. She blinked, her mouth gaping open, and he was still there.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His gaze was icy, cool, aloof. There was none of the warmth or affection in his gaze that she had come to expect when he looked at her. Warning bells clanged within her head. He looked like Lucifer, but he sat perfectly straight in the chair, not draping himself over it as Lucifer would have.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This was not the man she loved.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re not Lucifer,” she told him. It wasn’t a question.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No,” he said. “I am not.” He didn’t appear affected by the rudeness of her comment in the slightest. He tilted his head. “You are Chloe Decker.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Who are you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My name is Michael Demiurgos,” he said.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Michael.</em> Chloe wasn’t exactly an expert on the Bible, but she’d grown up in a Christian society. She knew who Michael was. And she also knew, thanks to her bouts of research, that he was supposedly the one who cast Lucifer from Heaven in the first place.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Apparently no one had thought to mention that he was Lucifer’s <em>identical</em> <em>twin</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’ve been following me,” she said. “I thought I was seeing things, but it was you. Why have you been following me everywhere I go?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was wearing armour. How had she not noticed that before? He wore a silver and black tunic; gold plating ran down his right arm. There was a <em>sword</em> strapped to his back. She blinked, trying to remember if she’d heard him clank as he sat down.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I was curious,” Michael explained. “My brother has spent a significant amount of time with you. I thought by observing you I would come understand why.” He examined her carefully, as if she were a new and fascinating bug he was seeing for the first time. “I have yet to uncover the appeal.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She drew back. “Well, I’m sorry that stalking me has been so boring for you,” she snapped.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Apology accepted,” he said serenely. “Perhaps the fault lay in the method. I suppose anything is dull when viewed from afar. Humans must be more interesting that you appear.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Must be,” she said. She returned to examining the floor, hoping it would prove to be more stimulating than continuing to talk to Michael. She was already regretting putting in the call to his father, particularly if having to deal with <em>him</em> was the intended result.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You are here for your ex-husband,” Michael said abruptly, as if he had heard her thoughts. “He is alive.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A breath she didn’t know she was holding rushed out of her. “Thank you,” she said. “Did you —” She made a vague jazzy motion with her hands.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I did nothing,” he said. “I was not instructed to do so. I do not care whether a singular human lives or dies. However, it is relevant to you.” He stood up. “Goodbye, Chloe Decker. I am sure we will meet again soon.” He walked out of the hospital, and Chloe could do nothing but stare at him as he left.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Michael wasn’t anything like Lucifer.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was so much <em>worse</em>.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At last a doctor emerged and headed in her direction. Chloe rose to her feet.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is Dan okay?” she asked.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re Chloe Decker?” the doctor asked. “I’m Dr. Constance. Mr. Espinoza is still in critical condition, but he’s stable.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A gust of air whooshed out of Chloe’s lungs. “He’s alive? He’s gonna be okay?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He was hit twice — one in the arm and one in the leg. The bullet wound in his arm is not serious, but he was struck near his femoral artery in the left leg. He lost a lot of blood. It was a little touch and go there for a while, but he pulled through in the end.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can I go see him?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s in the ICU now,” Dr. Constance said with a sympathetic grimace. “We don’t allow visitors in there. If his condition remains stable for the next few hours, we’ll move him into his own room.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So he might not make it?” she asked.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There’s always a chance of complications,” Dr. Constance told her gently. “But things are looking promising. He’s a fighter.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay,” she said. “Thank you so much.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dr. Constance nodded. “No one ever takes my advice, but <em>try</em> to sleep,” she said. “There’s nothing else we can do until Mr. Espinoza wakes up. Someone will come by to let you know if anything changes.” With a final nod, she left.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She looked at her phone; it was after 11 o’clock at night, but there was no way Ella would be asleep yet. Sure enough, she picked up on the first ring.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Chloe? Is everything okay? Is he alright? What happened?” Ella asked all in one breath.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ella, Ella,” she said with more calm than she felt. “He’s in the ICU, but they think he’s gonna be okay.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, thank God,” Ella said. Chloe bit her lip, her encounter with Michael still <em>very</em> fresh in her mind. “I’ve been so worried. I’ve been praying for him all night. What happened?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shooter during an arrest,” said Chloe. “Caught him in the arm and the leg.” Ella hissed in sympathy. “Is Trixie in bed?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, she sorta couldn’t sleep? And I mean, I’m not the greatest right now either,” Ella said. “I said she could stay up reading as long as she stayed in bed.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s alright,” said Chloe. “Thank you so much for looking after her tonight.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Literally anytime,” said Ella. “I can look after her tomorrow as well. Anything you need. You just say the word and I’m there.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe didn’t have words for the rush of gratitude and affection that flooded her. “Thank you,” she repeated. “You have no idea. Can you — do you mind making sure she gets to school tomorrow morning? I’ll pick her up from school or ask my mom to.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You got it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can I talk to her for a minute, if she’s still awake?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Absolutely.” There was a soft knocking sound from the other end of the line, and Ella’s voice distantly, saying, “Hey Trixie. It’s your mom.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There were scrambling noises and then Trixie’s voice was in her ear. “Mom,” she said. “Is daddy okay?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey monkey,” Chloe said. “Your dad’s doing fine. He’s a pretty tough guy.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did he get shot?” Trixie asked, her voice small.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He did,” Chloe said. “But the doctors here are really great, and they put him in surgery right away. He’s sleeping now, but when he wakes up I’m going to go see him, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can I come see him?” Trixie asked.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We’re gonna try tomorrow, okay?” Chloe said. “First I need you to get some sleep and go to school tomorrow. Then we’ll go to the hospital together and visit your dad.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay,” said Trixie, her voice resigned. Chloe’s heart clenched at the fact that her parents had been injured enough on the job for her to know the drill by now.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m going to stay here tonight,” said Chloe. “But Ella will be there with you, alright? She’ll help you with breakfast and get you off to school. I love you, monkey.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Love you too, mom,” Trixie said.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The phone was passed back to Ella. “Are you doing okay, Chloe?” she asked. “Can I bring you anything? Snacks? Drinks?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe realized belatedly that she’d never gotten around to eating dinner, but food was the farthest thing from her mind right now. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “You’re already doing more than enough, looking after Trixie for me. You try to get some sleep too, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll <em>try</em>,” Ella huffed. “No guarantees, though.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There’s a bed in Maze’s old room. I think it’s made up, but if it isn’t, there are sheets in the closet upstairs.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t worry about me. I’ve got it all sorted.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe took a deep breath and let it out. “Okay. I gotta make some phone calls. I’ll call you if I get any updates.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Take care of yourself,” said Ella.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe hung up and steeled herself to make some very unpleasant calls.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A nurse came by while Chloe was attempting to purchase a tea from the vending machine to tell her that Dan was being moved out of the ICU and into his own room. He had been in and out of consciousness for part of the night but was sleeping on his own now. She checked her phone and saw that it was a little after five in the morning.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hospital rooms were always grey and dreary, so Chloe bought a few flowers from the hospital gift shop to put in his room.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She called into the station to confirm her personal day and share the news that Dan had been moved out of the ICU. The other detectives and forensics wouldn’t be arriving for another couple of hours yet, but it was good to share the news with someone.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was still asleep when she entered the room and installed herself on the chair beside his bed. He was sickly pale, but the heart monitor hooked up to him beeped reassuringly at her. There was an IV attached to his arm, and a mostly full bag of clear liquid dripped down from it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She put the flowers on the small table beside him, kicked off her shoes, and curled up in the chair. The room was standardly antiseptic; there were two beds, but the other was currently empty. A tiny TV was hanging from the ceiling in the corner of the room, pointing towards Dan’s bed. Chloe fussed with the curtain that hung down beside her; it was made of that strange scratchy material that seemed exclusive to hospitals and grandmothers.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She yawned and propped her head in her hand, her elbow leaning against the arm of the chair. She’d been wired all night, on edge after meeting Michael, worrying about Dan and his recovery, but the worst seemed to be behind them now — or at least, Dan was on the road to recovery.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He started to stir a few minutes later, fidgeting restlessly and tossing his head back and forth. His brow furrowed, and he made a distressed sound.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Whatever was going on in his dream, it didn’t sound pleasant.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, Dan,” she said gently, reaching out to lay a hand over his. “It’s Chloe. You’re in the hospital.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He breathed deeply in through his nose, his eyes still closed, but it seemed like he’d woken up. He made a questioning noise that didn’t seem to be any word in particular.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There you go,” she said encouragingly. “Welcome back.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dan’s eyes slowly flickered open. “Chlo?” he croaked.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I’m here,” she told him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Really you?” he mumbled.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Really me,” she confirmed, smiling. His eyes slid closed once again. “Hang on, I’ll call the nurse. We’ll see if we can get you some water.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The nurse came in to check his vitals and clear him for liquid intake. Dan sat through it all without complaint, though he was still foggy-headed and exhausted.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You need to focus on getting better,” Chloe told him firmly, fussing with his pillows. “Lots of rest, and do everything the doctor says, alright? I’m going to pick Trixie up from school later. Feeling up to come company?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dan smiled — it was small and shaky, but it was there. “God, yeah,” he said. He fussed with the blanket. “I hate for her to see me like this.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She’s a tough kid,” said Chloe, even though she hated that Trixie was tough in this way and knew what it was like to have one of her parents in the hospital, holding onto their life. “She’s just happy to know you’re okay.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” said Dan. “I guess I am okay.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe squeezed his arm gently. “Rest,” she ordered him. “You look like hell.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His smile got a bit wider. “Feel like it,” he murmured. His grin faded. “Bad dreams, though.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Want to talk about it?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He shook his head slightly. “Don’t remember. But I think Lucifer was there, for some reason.” He wheezed out a breath that could have been a laugh. “I guess you dream some weird shit when you think you’re dying.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A hollow pit was forming in her stomach. <em>It was just a dream</em>, she told herself. <em>It doesn’t mean anything</em>. The thought felt like a lie, even in her own mind.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re awake now,” she told him firmly. “You don’t have to worry about anything except getting better, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, ma’am.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll be back later with Trixie,” Chloe said quietly. “Rest. I’ll see you later.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She waited until she was safely in her car to start sobbing.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Interlude: A Hell of Your Own Making</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lucifer has a conversation with a newly arrived soul.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There were a few people that Lucifer was looking forward to seeing in Hell. </span>
  <span class="s1">Killers and thugs, those wrapped up in cases he’d worked on with the Detective, who hadn’t made it here before he came back, but would turn up eventually. He had some special treats in store for some of them. In particular, there were a lucky few who had gotten away — well, not for long. No one escaped him forever.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There were also a few names he wanted to watch out for, just in case. Acquaintances, colleagues, various troublemakers he’d encountered over the years in LA. Perhaps not cold-blooded killers, but really, Hell catered to all types and there was plenty of room for a wide variety of misdeeds done in life.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And it was one such name, arriving much earlier than anticipated, that brought him off his throne and stalking the halls.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It took some time to reach the door — Hell was vast and ever-expanding, after all — but it looked the same as all the others when he did. Lucifer pushed the door open and walked into the LAPD precinct.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was the old office, before the city had sprung for a new building with an open-plan concept and shiny glass walls. He would he way through the room, breathing in the musty air and indulging in some nostalgia. This was where his partnership with the Detective had begun, although it wasn’t terribly interesting to look at. Desks were pushed against each other, paper stacked high everywhere, and there was the Detective herself, sitting at her desk, with Dan leaning against it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Seeing her again, even as a facsimile in this wretched place, was like a cool wave washing over him. She was a couple years younger than he remembered, but her eyes were just as blue and her hair fell in honeyed waves around her face.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He frowned. That wasn’t quite right, was it? She didn’t wear her hair down at work. She always pulled it back into a tight bun, like the strictest, most no-nonsense librarian. He leaned forward as she began to speak, from the sounds of it, pleading with Dan. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know I’ve got something here, Dan,” Chloe was saying. Her eyes were shining, desperate. “I can’t just close the case when my gut is telling me that this isn’t right.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I think you’re seeing things that aren’t there, Chloe,” Dan said. Lucifer hummed, intrigued. So this was Dan’s Hell loop: reliving the deceit and gaslighting he perpetrated against his then-wife. Well, Lucifer certainly couldn’t argue against Hell’s internal logic there.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dan frowned, shaking his head as if trying to clear it. “Haven’t we — haven’t we had this conversation before?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll say,” drawled Lucifer. “Feeling a little guilty for how you treated a certain someone, hm?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What the —” Dan jumped when he heard Lucifer’s voice, leaping off the desk. Chloe spun slowly around in her chair. “This is such a weird — Chloe, and you, and —”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What are you doing here, Daniel?” Lucifer interrupted him. He’d heard the oh-no-I’m-in-Hell song and dance countless times before and it never got any more creative. It was only the newest souls that could be shaken out of the thrall of their loops, in any case; after a few thousands years of living out their torment on endless repeat, not even the Devil could snap them out of it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dan blinked. “I — I work here —”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, Daniel, pay attention,” Lucifer said, snapping his fingers in front of his face. Dan recoiled as if struck. “You’re not <em>at</em> work anymore. So what are you doing? Here? With me? In this place?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There’s no way,” Dan said, backing up and rubbing at his chest. “This is just some wacked-out dream I’m having.” He shook his head as if to dislodge himself from the loop.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Would you like to see me at work, my king?” Said the demon wearing Chloe’s face, her grin unnaturally sharp. “He feels <em>so</em> guilty whenever he looks at this one.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taking on the appearance of someone from a soul’s life and using that as a torture device was the highest form of entertainment for shape-shifting demons — and Lucifer as well, if he were to be honest with himself. It was poetic. Just desserts. However, at the moment, he couldn’t quite remember the appeal.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll take care of this one, Onoskelis,” Lucifer told her. “You may leave.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I do hope you’ll watch my performance sometime soon, my Lord,” Onoskelis said, standing up and wrapping herself sinuously around Dan. He flinched and tried to push her away. “All I have to do is bat my big doe eyes at him and beg him to listen to me, pay attention to me, love me, and he slices himself up with guilt. I’m making him <em>miserable</em>.” She hummed happily.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Truly inspired work,” Lucifer said, forcing a smile. “But I would like to speak with our guest alone. And take off that face, would you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Onoskelis kissed Dan’s cheek, her disguise melting away. Dan recoiled in horror. “Enjoy, handsome,” she purred. “Our king has been in <em>such</em> a mood. Maybe you can cheer him up for us, and then we can play together again.” With that, she slunk out of the cell.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There’s no way this is real,” Dan said. “I can’t be — and you’re not —”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Dearie me, I’m going to need a drink if we’re going to have this conversation,” Lucifer said. He glanced around at the decidedly drink- and drug-free precinct. “Don’t you have any guilty memories of somewhere that isn’t quite so boring?” The room shimmered, and stretched, then relaxed into the penthouse above Lux. “Ah!” He exclaimed. “That’s more like it.” He strode over the bar.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What is this place?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why, a hell of your own making, of course,” Lucifer said absent-mindedly, scanning the selection. “Individually tailored to suit your own punishment needs. You hardly want to be <em>outside</em>. Believe it or not, locked away in a cell is probably the best place to be in Hell at the moment. Terrible amount of in-fighting going on.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t understand.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Daniel.” Lucifer sighed impatiently, selecting a bottle and pouring two glasses. “Demons. Like your new friend wearing the Detective’s face. They’ve been at each other’s throats constantly. Half of the kingdom is on fire.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dan whirled around, then closed his eyes and starting chanting, “Wake up, wake up, wake up —”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This isn’t a dream,” Lucifer interrupted. Why was it so bloody difficult to have a decent conversation with anyone in Hell? “You’re in Hell — sadly not particularly unexpected, considering your douche-y ways.” Perhaps that wasn’t entirely fair. He did have brief glimmering moments where he was actually somewhat tolerable.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why does my chest hurt?” Dan asked, grimacing with pain.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, they’re probably trying to revive you,” Lucifer said. “That can be rather painful.” He pondered for a moment, tilting his head. “I’m surprised you can even feel it. You must be a fresh arrival. Drink this.” He passed over a glass.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dan tipped the entire glass back, then spluttered and choked. “What <em>is</em> that?” He panted.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, what did you expect?” Lucifer said. “We’re in Hell. It may look it, but it’s hardly top shelf.” He took a small sip and made a face. “Actually, you’re probably better off drinking paint straight from the tin.” He put the glass down. “So. Daniel. How did you end up here?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There was a shooter.” Dan stared down at his left shoulder. “I think —” he swallowed. “I don’t think I made it to the hospital.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">If Dan was still feeling pain associated with his body, then he truly hadn’t been down here for all that long. Less than a minute on Earth.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was a shame, really. Daniel wasn’t all bad; he had his redeeming qualities. And while he may have started out as a supreme douche, at least he had owned up to it and tried to make amends and face human justice for his misdeeds.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Lucifer tapped his nails against the bar, considering the scrap of a soul in front of him. Did he really deserve to be down here? He wasn’t Lucifer’s favourite human, not by a long shot, but he wasn’t sure that translated into being stuck down in Hell for the rest of eternity.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The Devil was the resident expert on punishment, and the sentence was not befitting the crime.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I told Trixie I was going to take her to the observatory this weekend,” Dan said numbly, still staring down at his shoulder. “We were going to make a whole day of it, go hiking, have ice cream. And now Chloe’s going to have to tell her I’m dead.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Why did he have to bring up the Detective? And the offspring? Lucifer had heard all the sob stories before, all the souls mourning their loved ones, but he’d never known them before, had he? But now he could perfectly picture Chloe, drawn with grief, and young Beatrice, losing her father to the job just like her mother had. Maybe she, too, would grow up to become a detective and follow in her parents’ footsteps — Daniel’s death ensuring the beginning of the cycle once more.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Lucifer saw enough loops in Hell. He didn’t need to see another one play out on Earth.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t tell anyone I’m doing this,” Lucifer said, grabbing Daniel roughly by the shirt and towing him across the room. “If anyone asks, you just wandered out all by yourself, alright?” He pushed him into the elevator.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What are you doing?” Dan said.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“If I were you, Daniel,” said Lucifer. “I’d work out whatever guilt sent you here. See a therapist. Try macramé. And try not to take offence when I say that I truly <em>don’t</em> wish to see you again.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The doors closed on Dan’s confused face with a ding, and then there was silence. Lucifer waited a moment, then turned on his heel.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well,” he sighed. “At least the view is decent.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. See Yourself Out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Chloe deals with an unwanted guest at a crime scene.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe arrived at the crime scene and pulled into a spot. She got out of the car and ducked under the tape one of the unis helpfully lifted up for her. She said her thanks, but the man was staring intently at the ground. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She suppressed a sigh. It had been almost a week since Dan’s shooting and two since Benjamin’s. Cops were a superstitious bunch, and she had ‘bad luck’ written all over her. She gave herself a mental shake — being the precinct pariah was nothing she hadn’t dealt with before — and looked at the case in front of her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The neighbourhood was classic white suburbia; it hardly looked like the sort of place where a murder would take place. The houses were lined up in neat rows, and the lawns were perfectly manicured. There was an actual white picket fence next door. It would be picture-perfect were it not for the women lying face down in the grass next to a rosebush, a set of pruning shears sticking out of her back.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey Ella,” she said. “What have we got?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Janice May,” said Ella from where she was crouched beside the body. “This is her house. Somebody really got her with the pruning shears.” She tilted her head and squinted.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Huh.” Chloe contained herself from saying <em>talk about getting stabbed in the back</em>, because that’s exactly what Lucifer would have said and it still felt like pressing down on a bruise to even think about it. She cleared her throat. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Detective Decker?” A uni, a young Latina woman, stood uncertainly to the side. “I’m Officer Castillo. I’ve been assigned to assist you on this case.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe nodded to her, eyeing her carefully. The woman seemed nervous, but she didn’t look like she was possessed by a demon, anyway. “Officer Castillo, happy to have you,” she said. She’d been there. She knew what it was like to be a young rookie looking to make detective. She nodded to the body. “Any ideas?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uh,” Officer Castillo stammered, her grip tightening on her notebook. “No signs of a struggled, she was stabbed in the back — she knew her attacker, or didn’t see them coming?"</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe hummed in agreement. “Looks like a weapon of convenience, probably a crime of passion. Any witnesses?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nope,” said Officer Castillo, flipping open her notebook. “A neighbour was out jogging, saw the body, and called 911. Her screaming woke up half the neighbourhood.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Was she married? Any kids?” Chloe asked.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The husband wasn’t here when we arrived. One of the neighbours said he leaves early in the morning to drive into work. No kids, though.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ella, do we have a time of death?” Chloe asked.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Based on lividity, I’d guess between five and eight this morning,” said Ella.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The body was found around 7:30,” Officer Castillo put in.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Alright,” said Chloe. “Officer Castillo and I will go speak to the husband. We should speak to the neighbours, see if we can work out if there was anyone who wanted to kill her.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There’s something else,” Officer Castillo added. “There’s a man here who was asking for you. I think maybe he lives nearby? It’s hard to tell.” She pointed.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe followed the direction of her finger.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Michael</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe clenched her jaw. At least he wasn’t wearing armour, but what he was wearing was hardly better: a long black robe with silvery overlays that had to be stifling in LA’s heat, even this early. He stood at the edge of the police tape, looking around the crime scene with clear fascination.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe stomped over to where he was standing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hello, Chloe Decker,” said Michael.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Absolutely not,” she said firmly. “No. You can’t just show up at random crime scenes and stare at me. Go home.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I thought the customary human greeting was ‘hello’,” Michael stated, looking genuinely confused. “Did I get it wrong?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She tried desperately not to roll her eyes and probably failed. “Why are you here, anyway?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I am curious,” said Michael simply.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I’m fascinating,” she snapped. “You can’t be here. This is my work. I can’t have random angels following me around.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But you know who I am,” he said. “I am Michael.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes,” said Chloe, gritting her teeth. “And you have a sword.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, of course.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You can’t just walk around the streets of LA with a sword on your back!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is that something humans object to?” Michael asked. “Why?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because humans don’t walk around with weapons strapped to their body.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You do,” said Michael, pointing to her gun.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s different,” she protested. “I’m a police officer. Most people tend to freak out if they see someone walking around with a giant sword.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You underestimate me, Chloe Decker,” said Michael. “I am perfectly prepared for humans to ask questions about me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Lucifer!” Ella popped up beside her and socked Michael in the arm. He didn’t budge. “I can’t believe you’ve been gone for months and months, and then you just show up at a crime scene? Unbelievable, dude.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You are mistaken,” Michael said serenely, turning his unblinking gaze to Ella. “I am not Lucifer Morningstar. My name is Michael Demiurgos.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’ve got a new role you’re working on, huh?” Ella eyed him. “Interesting. Going for the angel persona. I get it. It’s an interesting character study. And the sword is a nice touch.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you,” said Michael. “It’s cosplay.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Cosplay?” said Chloe incredulously. “How do you know about cosplay?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Azrael told me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How does — never mind,” said Chloe. She put her hands in the air as if to shield herself from the answer. “It doesn’t matter.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I love cosplay!” said Ella. “Why didn’t you tell me you were into it before? We should totally hit up Comic Con.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We have never met before,” he said, frowning. “How could I inform you of anything before our first meeting? Should I have opened with that?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay!” said Chloe, clapping her hands together. “This has been a fun little catch-up, but we really need to get back to work and I’m sure you have other places to be. You know, a little north of here. So we really must be going.” She grabbed Ella by the arm and pulled her away.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re really mad at him, huh?” Ella asked, allowing herself to be lead away.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t worry about it,” she answered. “He’ll go away soon. Now, I really have to go talk to Janice May’s husband.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As it turned out, Janice May was — to put it in a word — hated.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Neighbour after neighbour recounted receiving a knock on their door to scold them about their lawn, their cars, their kids’ toys, their holiday decorations.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She got into everybody’s business,” said one neighbour frankly. “She came by my house two days after Christmas to tell me that still having my lights up was unacceptable by the neighbourhood’s standards. We were away visiting family and just got back that morning. When I told her that she said that I should have arranged for someone to come by and take them down if I knew I was going to be out of town.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She told me that my kids couldn’t draw on the sidewalk,” said another. “Said it made the sidewalk unsightly. It’s sidewalk chalk, you know? The kids were just having fun. The stuff washes off.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She called the cops on us because our son was playing some music in his room,” said her next-door neighbour. “He was playing it a little loud, I guess, but it was the middle of the afternoon. It’s not like anyone was trying to sleep. It’s like she just waited around all day for someone who broke her precious little rules. I care about living in a nice neighbourhood, but she took it way too far to the extreme.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They were assured by everyone that, however much they might have had problems with Janice May, they certainly would have <em>killed</em> her because of them.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So it seems like nobody was safe,” sighed Officer Castillo. “She made an enemy of everyone in the neighbourhood.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe one too many snide comments about the length of their grass and someone just snapped,” said Chloe. “Especially if the pruning shears were right there.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So we’ve got plenty of motive.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Looks like it. We can’t rule out anyone on the street until we’ve confirmed all their alibis.” She shook her head. “Maybe her husband can shed a bit more light on the situation.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Charles May, Janice May’s husband, had a pinched, drawn look about him. He had an expensive, custom-tailored suit — Chloe had, by virtue of association, acquired quite an eye for such things.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I mean, I knew Jan wasn’t popular,” he said, fiddling with his cufflinks. “She had run-ins with a lot of the neighbours. But I can’t imagine anyone killing her because of it.” He tugged at his sleeves.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What sort of run-ins?” asked Chloe.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We live on a nice street, you know?” Charlie said. “Jan liked things a certain way. It made her upset when our neighbours didn’t appreciate the neighbourhood. Things like leaving toys strewn all over the front lawn, or parking a dirty car in the driveway.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Any encounters that stick out in particular?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He pulled at the tie around his neck. “There was an ongoing feud with one of our neighbours. There’s a lemon tree that borders our properties. The roots are on the neighbour’s side, but there’s a branch that hangs over the fence. Jan always insists they’re responsible for any leaves or lemons that fall on our property.” He wiped his forehead. “It seems really silly, now.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s not,” Chloe assured him. “It’s important for us to explore every possibility. We’ll follow up with them. And I’ll need to confirm your whereabouts at the time.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“In traffic, heading to the office,” he said. “We have a new acquisition at work and it’s meant a lot of early mornings and late nights. I was out the door at six sharp. Janice was out in the garden when I left.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you, Mr. May,” Chloe said. She passed over her card. “In case you think of anything else. We’ll be in touch.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe left the interrogation room and stopped short. Lounging at her desk was a familiar face. She stomped over.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How did you get in here?” she demanded. “You know what — never mind. It doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t be here, and you can’t keep popping up everywhere I go.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Michael gestured to his clothes. “I changed my clothes, since you seemed to object to them so much,” he said. “I don’t see how these are any better, but you clearly didn’t object when the Morningstar wore these.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was wearing a suit — Chloe didn’t know whether he’d purchased a new one or just raided Lucifer’s closet, but it looked exactly like something Lucifer would wear. He even had a pocket square and a pair of Louboutins.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">If he’d stolen those things from Lucifer, he was going to have a fit.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t have time for this right now,” Chloe said, snatching the folder she needed off her desk. “You saw yourself in. You can see yourself out.” She marched over to Ella’s lab.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Michael slipped in behind her. Chloe grimaced and braced herself to ignore him. Maybe if she pretended he didn’t exist, he would take the hint and go away. Surely following around a human doing mundane police work would lose its shine after a short time.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hi, Lucifer!” Ella chirped.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I am not Lucifer. My name is Michael.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Right,” Ella said with an exaggerated wink. “Gotcha. <em>Michael</em>. You jumping on cases again?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I am not currently jumping on anything.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s not,” said Chloe, “<em>Michael</em> has more important things to than hang around the station all day, I’m sure, so —”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not really, no,” said Michael.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh come on, Chloe,” Ella pleaded, eyes wide. “He can stay! We can get to know Lucifer’s new character! Won’t that be fun?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It did not sound fun. It did not sound fun at all. But so far Chloe had wasted a lot of breath trying to get Michael to leave her alone, and nothing seemed to be working. Maybe it was better to let him hang around for a bit, satisfy whatever strange desire he had, and then he would be on his merry way.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hopefully, anyway.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fine!” said Chloe, throwing her hands up in defeat. “Fine. As long as we can focus on the case. Ella?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Right,” said Ella, clearing her throat. “So, those pruning shears we found in Janice May’s back? Didn’t belong to her. We found her set of shears in the shed. We couldn’t pull any prints of the murder weapon, either.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t people generally wear gloves while they’re gardening?” Chloe said. “Perhaps that could account for the lack of prints. Could still have been a neighbour who was out pruning their yard and got into a fight.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Blood likely will be on the gloves,” said Ella. “Crime of passion like this, the murderer probably panicked and kept the gloves with them. So if we find the gloves, we might just find out killer.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Great,” said Chloe. “Can your team sweep the area again? I’ll come at it again tomorrow and see if I can dredge up some sort of motive more likely than ‘she really annoyed a bunch of people’.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ella nodded and swept out of the lab. Chloe made her way out after her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Where are you going?” Michael looked up from the paper in front of him, frowning at her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uh, home?” said Chloe, pointing in the direction of the exit.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Michael tilted his head, looking more confused puppy than scary Soldier of God. “But you have not caught your killer yet.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She let out a small laugh, shrugging her shoulders. “Tomorrow will be a new day.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But you have not yet finished your work,” said Michael, him fingers beginning to tap on the surface of the table. “You have a job, a purpose, and you have not completed it. Do your superiors know that you are abandoning your duties?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not —” Chloe started, but broke off with a huff. She had to remember who she was talking to. Angels, apparently, took their jobs very seriously. “I’m human. I have to eat, and sleep, and see my daughter. I can’t work non-stop until I find the person who did this. And it’s not just me — I have to wait for lab results and warrants and witnesses.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Michael’s fingers ceased tapping on the desk, his head tilted to the side, his eyes fixed on her. “I suppose considerations must be made for your species’ deficiencies.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She tried not to roll her eyes. She really, really tried. “Yes, I suppose they must,” she said. “So I’m going to go take care of my deficiencies, and you can go back to whatever it is you do when I’m not around. Lurk on street corners, I’m guessing.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Michael stood up abruptly. “I shall come with you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, you won’t.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes,” he said, nodding decisively as if he hadn’t heard a word she said. “I shall accompany you and see these human rituals for myself.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chloe eyed him carefully. “If I say no, are you just going to show up at my house anyway?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Michael said nothing, but continued to stare at her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll take that as a yes,” said Chloe. “Fine. You can come home with me. But only this once, and just for dinner. You’re not staying the night. Got it?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I understand.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good. Let’s go. And you’re not allowed to touch anything in my car.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And, just for her own satisfaction, she made him sit in the back.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Not Half as Charismatic</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Michael joins the Deckers for dinner.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I've been working on and off on this fic for the better part of a year, and chapters like this one were written months ago. With the release of the trailer, certain plot elements and lines of dialogue have taken on an interesting new light. ;)</p>
<p>With season 5 rapidly approaching, my hope is still to finish &amp; upload everything before it drops. It's all done, it just needs a bit of polishing up before I can post it. Thank you everyone for taking the time to read and leave kudos &amp; comments. I hope you are enjoying everything so far!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Trixie was home when Chloe opened the door. At the sight of Michael, she gave a small shriek and jumped off the stool to come barrelling towards them.</p>
<p class="p1">“Lucifer!” she shouted, then abruptly stopped short. She stood a foot away from Michael, blinking up at him. “You’re not Lucifer,” she accused.</p>
<p class="p1">“Trixie, this is Michael,” Chloe said, stepping between them to head off any potential disasters. “He’s Lucifer’s brother and he’ll be joining us for dinner. Michael, this is my daughter, Trixie.”</p>
<p class="p1">“This is your daughter?” Michael looked her up and down and then turned to Chloe. “Why did you make her so small?”</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe closed her eyes rather than answer that. When she opened them, Trixie announced, “I’m getting bigger! And I’m the fastest runner in my class.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I suppose the smaller ones have the tendency to be quick,” said Michael. “You can use that to your advantage in a fight. What sort of weapons do you have?”</p>
<p class="p1">Trixie sighed glumly. “Just practice knives,” she said. “I’m not allowed to have real ones yet.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Show me,” Michael instructed. As Trixie raced to obey, he turned to Chloe. “How can you expect her to protect herself if you will not allow her to train with proper weaponry?”</p>
<p class="p1">“She’s twelve,” Chloe argued. Trixie came racing back into the room, holding her practice knives in the air.</p>
<p class="p1">“Her age is irrelevant,” said Michael, turning back to Trixie and inspecting the proffered cardboard cutouts. “Hmm. Facsimiles of demon blades.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Yeah!” said Trixie proudly. “They look just like Maze’s!”</p>
<p class="p1">“Very well. Show me what you can do. Even a great warrior can demonstrate prowess with practice weapons.”</p>
<p class="p1">As Trixie performed a set of stabbing and slicing motions through the air, Michael watched and nodded along.</p>
<p class="p1">“Not bad,” he said finally. “About what could be expected, what with having a demon for a teacher. Your left side is weak, and your stance is unbalanced, which you compensate for with speed. I have seen worse. I can work with you.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Cool!” said Trixie.</p>
<p class="p1">“Okay,” said Chloe. “Why don’t we put away the knives, and you can get started on your homework while I make dinner? And Michael, you can just relax. On the couch. Or a chair. Or something.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I would like to see the preparation of your dinner.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Sure, why not,” she said. It wasn’t as if having an angel hovering over her shoulder while she chopped vegetables would make her day any worse. “I just have to use the washroom first.” When Michael made motions to follow her, she stuck out her hand to stop him. “No. Never. You never get to follow me into the washroom. It’s private. Got it?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Very well,” he said stiffly, and stood motionless in the middle of the room as she ducked upstairs. She kept an eye on him as she went up, just in case he made any sudden movements.</p>
<p class="p1">She did have to use the washroom, but her main motive was making an emergency call to Amenadiel. He picked up after a couple of rings.</p>
<p class="p1">“You need to come over, please,” she hissed down the line.</p>
<p class="p1">“Chloe? What’s wrong? Are you in danger?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Your brother — Michael — is currently standing in my kitchen,” she told him.</p>
<p class="p1">“My sympathies,” he said. “I can try to get him to leave, but he doesn’t listen to me.”</p>
<p class="p1">“He doesn’t listen to me either. He’s been following me around all day and he won’t leave me alone. Can you help me — I don’t know — deal with him? Bring Charlie and Linda.”</p>
<p class="p1">“He showed up last night and told Linda her house was contaminated with demonic filth and that angels should live in Heaven. Maze threw a knife at his head and he smashed Linda’s favourite lamp throwing her across the room.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Alright, don’t bring Linda,” she said. “But I could really use some backup here. Please?”</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m on my way.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh, thank God. See you soon.” She ended the call and emerged from the bathroom to find Michael standing exactly where she’d left him. She sighed and got to work.</p>
<p class="p1">Dan exited Maze’s old room, limping along and blinking blearily, and stopped short. “Lucifer?” He said blinking. “Seriously? You just show up again after all this time?”</p>
<p class="p1">Michael turned to face him. “You are mistaken,” he said. “I am not Lucifer. My name is Michael Demiurgos.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh man, I am so not in the mood for all your bullshit right now,” Dan muttered, rolling his eyes. “Are you okay, Chloe? D’you need me to get rid of him?”</p>
<p class="p1">“No, Dan, it’s okay,” she said. “This really is Michael. Lucifer’s brother.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Lucifer and I are twins,” Michael supplied helpfully.</p>
<p class="p1">“Seriously?” Dan said. He huffed. “You believe that story? Come on, Chloe. He’s just being a dick and trying to dodge taking responsibility for the fact that he up and left without a word for months.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Michael, this is Dan,” Chloe said. “He’s Trixie’s father. My ex-husband.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Do exes normally still live together?” Michael asked. “My parents refused to be on the same plane of existence when they broke up.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Dan is staying here while he recovers. His apartment is on a fourth floor walk-up.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I have no idea what that means.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m not going to sit around and listen to this idiot play games all night,” Dan announced. “I’m sorry, Chloe. I’ll be in my room. Call me if you need any help getting this clown out of here.” He turned around and limped back to his room.</p>
<p class="p1">Michael frowned. “I am not a clown,” he told her, as if it were somehow in doubt. “I am an angel. Will we play games later?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Absolutely not. Do you know how peel potatoes?”</p>
<p class="p1">Michael, it turned out, did not know how to peel potatoes, but it was a simple enough task to show him what to do and hand him the peeler. As the rhythmic <em>snick snick snick</em> began, Chloe went to check up on Dan.</p>
<p class="p1">He was lying propped up against the headboard, a grimace of pain on his face. “Hey,” she said. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Just for that idiot to stop jerking you around,” he grunted. “Seriously, Chlo. Why do you put up with it?”</p>
<p class="p1">She sighed. “It’s complicated. He’s just here for dinner, and then he’ll go away. I’ve called in Amenadiel for help.” She hesitated. There were dark circles under his eyes. “Are you sure you’re alright?”</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m fine,” he said. “Tired. Bad dreams, that’s all. I’ll be alright.”</p>
<p class="p1">“If you’re sure,” she said doubtfully. “I’ll let you know when the dust has settled.” The doorbell rang. She closed the door to Dan’s room and went to let another angel into the house.</p>
<p class="p1">“Amenadiel!” She announced loudly as she opened the door. “Come on in and join us for dinner!”</p>
<p class="p1">“Maze thought you might need this,” Amenadiel said, passing her a bottle of single-malt whiskey as he entered the apartment. She clutched it to her chest and mouthed ‘thank you’.</p>
<p class="p1">“Brother!” called Michael. “Are you joining us for dinner? We are eating potatoes. They are almost ready.”</p>
<p class="p1">“They’re not, but please come in and keep your brother company while I finish making dinner. Why don’t you show him how the TV works?”</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe finished peeling the potatoes and started in on the chicken as Amenadiel patiently tried to explain the plot of Riverdale to his younger brother. Soon enough she was calling Trixie to the table and they were sitting down together.</p>
<p class="p1">She picked up her fork.</p>
<p class="p1">“Are you not going to say grace?” Michael asked, frowning slightly at her. Trixie stopped with her fork halfway to her open mouth.</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe put her fork back down. She looked at Amenadiel for help, but he was silent and hiding a smile behind his hand. “Why don’t you say it for us?” she offered. She wasn’t exactly devout, all things considering, and the only time Trixie had participated in such things was when visiting Dan’s parents. But it would probably be a bad thing to refuse an angel on such matters.</p>
<p class="p1">Michael nodded solemnly and turned his palms upward on the table, Amenadiel following suit beside him. Chloe and Trixie scrambled to copy them.</p>
<p class="p1">“Heavenly Father,” Michael began. “Thank You for this bounty You have bestowed upon us in Your benevolence. We pray for Your continued wisdom and guidance. Amen.” The table followed in with a ragged chorus of Amen. Michael serenely picked up his fork with his left hand and scooped up some potatoes.</p>
<p class="p1">“Interesting,” he said. “If somewhat bland.” He moved on to the chicken.</p>
<p class="p1">Dreading to hear the rest of his assessment of her culinary skills, Chloe hastily turned to Amenadiel. “So!” she said. “Tell us all about Charlie. How’s he doing?”</p>
<p class="p1">Amenadiel brightened and began to talk about his son. Perfect. New parents loved to talk about their babies. She could stretch this conversation out for the whole meal.</p>
<p class="p1">Michael stabbed at a piece of broccoli. “I heard all this yesterday,” he said. He eyed the floret with some suspicion and Chloe regretted not dousing everything with cheese.</p>
<p class="p1">“But Chloe hasn’t,” Amenadiel said with the air of one accustomed to such comments, and dived right back in.</p>
<p class="p1">Under the influence of Amenadiel’s soothing voice, and thankfully no further commentary on her cooking, Chloe relaxed somewhat. As the meal drew to a close, she excused Trixie from the table and prepared to thank them both for coming and send them on their way.</p>
<p class="p1">There was a brief lull in the conversation. “I shall join Chloe Decker at work,” announced Michael.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m sorry, what?” spluttered Chloe, sitting ramrod straight.</p>
<p class="p1">“Yes,” said Michael, nodding decisively. “I am curious, you see, as to what appeal you had to my dear brother. The best way for me to understand is to step into his shoes, so to speak. Or his suits.” He gestured to his stolen ensemble.</p>
<p class="p1">“Absolutely not,” said Chloe firmly, setting down her mug. “I am a homicide detective. I work in secure crime scenes. I can’t have people tagging along for my work just because they’re bored for the day. That’s not how this works.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You are saying I cannot join you?” asked Michael.</p>
<p class="p1">“Exactly.” She nodded.</p>
<p class="p1">“But you allowed Lucifer to assist you.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Yes, but — well, that’s different,” said Chloe.</p>
<p class="p1">“I do not see how,” said Michael. “It is settled then. I will join you tomorrow.” He stood up and swept out of the apartment without another word.</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe turned to Amenadiel. “Seriously?” she hissed.</p>
<p class="p1">He looked somewhat contrite. “Sorry.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I can’t have him keep showing up at work,” Chloe said. “I had a hard enough time reigning in Lucifer at crime scenes. There’s no way I can get a handle on him. And people will ask questions.”</p>
<p class="p1">“He doesn’t listen to anybody except Dad,” he said. “If he listens to you at all it’ll be a miracle.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I should have known Lucifer’s identical twin would make my life miserable,” she grumbled.</p>
<p class="p1">“They’re easy to tell apart. They’re really not that similar. I’m sure everyone will be able to tell the difference.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I suppose Michael is not half as charismatic,” Chloe conceded.</p>
<p class="p1">“If he gives you a tough time, just tell him he’s acting like Lucifer. He’ll probably do the exact opposite just out of spite. They hate being compared to each other.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I’ll keep that in mind.” She sighed. “Thanks for coming tonight. I really appreciate it.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You’re welcome.” He frowned. “I fear I owe you an apology. It’s my fault Michael is even on Earth to begin with.”</p>
<p class="p1">“What do you mean?”</p>
<p class="p1">“You suggested I reach out to my family about getting to know Charlie.”</p>
<p class="p1">“So you invited <em>him</em>?” she said incredulously. “You know he’s been stalking me for weeks, right?”</p>
<p class="p1">Amenadiel winced. “There’s a certain hierarchy among angels, and Michael commands the Heavenly Host — it would have been an insult to invite others before him. It doesn’t matter. I’m truly sorry. I had no idea he would stick around this long. He never has before.”</p>
<p class="p1">She waved him off. “It’s not your fault. I’ll manage.”</p>
<p class="p1">“After Lucifer? Michael’s a piece of cake. Well. Not a very delicious one, but you get the idea.” He stretched and rose. “I really should be going. Thank you for the meal.”</p>
<p class="p1">She waved him off and set about cleaning up the kitchen. It appeared she would have a new partner after all.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Really High Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Trouble in Hell boils over to Earth with a bittersweet reunion.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The chapter you've been waiting for...? 🕵️😈</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“You never know what kind of fresh perspective you can get on a crime scene after a good night’s rest!” Ella announced as they pulled up to the victim’s house. “That’s why I always revisit. There’s all sorts of clues and insights that you might miss the first time around.”</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe hummed in response as Ella continued to chatter about previous cases that she’d helped to crack by stepping into the crime scene for a closer look. At least Michael wasn’t here. No doubt he was at the station, expecting her to turn up at her desk. She’d all but jumped at the chance to go directly from home back to the crime scene when Ella called to suggest it. </p>
<p class="p1">Her decision to avoid Michael did have the unfortunate consequence of everyone else at the precinct having to deal with him, but they would manage. Lucifer had acquired so much goodwill that whatever his twin said or did would probably just be laughed at or brushed off as him being eccentric. Nobody would believe he wasn’t Lucifer, in any case.</p>
<p class="p1">She lifted up the police tape for Ella and they both walked inside and up to the front door of the house. </p>
<p class="p1">They paused at the front door. Ella frowned. “Do you hear something?” Chloe leaned forward and pressed her ear against the door. There was a noise, a high-pitched, continuous whistling sound coming from somewhere inside the house. She placed a hand on her gun and put herself first through the door.</p>
<p class="p1">There was something, but not what she had expected. She found Charles May, hanging by his neck from an exposed beam in the living room. A turned-over stool lay on the floor beneath him. Ella, following in behind her, crossed herself and stepped closer to the body.</p>
<p class="p1">A kettle whistled piercingly through the kitchen. Chloe reached into her back pocket to pull out a glove as she advanced into the kitchen, and turned off the burner. The kettle sputtered and quieted.</p>
<p class="p1">“This looks recent,” Ella said sadly, shaking her head. “We must have just missed him.”</p>
<p class="p1">A note was posted on the otherwise empty fridge, held up with a <em>Discover Yosemite! </em>magnet. Chloe leaned in and brushed the edge of the note with her glove. “He left a note and confession,” she said.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’ll call —” Ella began, pulling out her phone.</p>
<p class="p1">The corpse shuddered and reanimated with a gasp. Ella shrieked and scrambled backwards, almost tripping over herself in her haste to get away. She ducked behind the breakfast bar that separated the living room from the kitchen as the body reached up and snapped the rope tying him to the beam and fell to the floor. <em>Demon</em>, thought Chloe, and pulled her gun out of her holster. She moved out of the kitchen and aimed her weapon squarely at his chest.</p>
<p class="p1">The demon gurgled out a laugh as he rose in awkward, jerky motions. “Classic,” he said, his voice raspy. “Never gets old.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You’re not supposed to be here,” Chloe said. “Leave now.” She knew that demons possessing humans could be killed, but it would take more than the bullets she had in her gun to make it happen. She had to hope that it was just the one who had come up, and that he would leave of his own volition.</p>
<p class="p1">“Chloe,” Ella whispered hoarsely from behind her.</p>
<p class="p1">“Well, well, well,” said the demon, eyes flitting to Ella and back to her. “Chloe Decker. <em>Just</em> who I was hoping to see.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You know who I am?” Chloe demanded.</p>
<p class="p1">The demon laughed. “Oh baby,” he said, leering out at her through Charles May’s face. “Everyone knows all about you.”</p>
<p class="p1">“And I suppose it’s a coincidence that you’re possessing a body I happened to stumble upon in the case I’m working?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Hardly,” scoffed the demon. “Don’t worry, old Charlie boy is as guilty as they come, but he may have had some — oh, let’s call it <em>encouragement</em> from yours truly.”</p>
<p class="p1">She tightened her grip on her gun. She did not want another repeat of the massacre at the Mayan. “Why are you looking for me?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Who doesn’t want to meet the famous Chloe Decker? Father Kinley is quite the little celebrity down below — or he was, until Lucifer threw him into the deepest pit he could find. Our king hasn’t stopped moping since he got back.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Then you know that he won’t be pleased to find you here,” she said, trying not to flinch at the mention of Lucifer. “You should leave before he finds out.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Finds out?” said the demon with a laugh. “I’m counting on it.” He pulled advanced on her. She squared her shoulders and prepared to fire. “You have any idea how slowly time passes in Hell?”</p>
<p class="p1">“What?” she said, blinking. “What does that have to do with anything?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Ooooh,” he said delightedly. “You <em>don’t</em>. How delicious. Let me be the one to tell you: a single minute on Earth can be hours, months, sometimes even <em>years</em> in Hell. And if our king comes back to Earth because he thinks you’re in danger, even for a single minute — well, who can say what kind of havoc we can wreck while he’s gone?”</p>
<p class="p1">“The demons are rebelling?”</p>
<p class="p1">“It’s complete chaos down there,” said the demon gleefully. “Slaughter and mayhem by the hour. It’s so much fun.” He refocused his gaze on her and twisted Charles May’s face into a smile. “Just imagine the fun we’ll have together.”</p>
<p class="p1">There was the sound of wings, and in the space where there had been nothing, Lucifer manifested.</p>
<p class="p1">The last time Chloe had seen him, he’d been heartbroken and duty-bound, an angel shouldering a great and terrible responsibility. </p>
<p class="p1">Now he’d swapped his Armani for armour. It looked nothing like the clunky pieces of metal Chloe had seen in museums. It was made largely of a dark leather and fixed with finely wrought metal swirling out in intricate designs. A long, curved knife — or perhaps a very short sword — graced his hand, and another was thrust into the belt at his side. His magnificent white wings arched out on either side of him, flared in anger.</p>
<p class="p1">It was only then that Chloe felt the full weight of how an angel could be terrifying.</p>
<p class="p1">In the blink of an eye, Lucifer grabbed the demon by the neck, his ferociously curved blade pressed against the neck of the stolen body. “Preta,” he snarled, his eyes burning red. “One would think that you were trying my patience deliberately.” A bead of blood rolled down the blade.</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe didn’t know what to say, but she opened her mouth anyway. “I can’t <em>believe</em> you sent demons to spy on me,” came out of her.</p>
<p class="p1">“Preta? No, I didn’t send him,” he said, his attention focused on the demon. He gave him a shake, like a misbehaving puppy.</p>
<p class="p1">“No, not Preta,” she corrected him. The beginnings of her anger swelled up inside her, catching up with her words. “Benjamin.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Who?” He had the gall to look confused. The demon under his knife wore a matching expression of confusion, his eyes flicking between her and Lucifer.</p>
<p class="p1">“Benjamin!” she shouted. “You stuck a demon in a dead police officer’s body, I mean do you have <em>any idea —</em>”</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh, him,” Lucifer said, turning his head away dismissively. “You didn’t miss out on a great conversationalist, don’t worry.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Well excuse me for placing any value on human life —”</p>
<p class="p1"><em>“</em>Is this <em>really</em> this time?” Lucifer said, tightening his grip on the knife. “I’m in the middle of something.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh yes, showing up for what any idiot could recognize as a trap —”</p>
<p class="p1">“Don’t worry, I know,” said Lucifer. “Took possession of a newly departed body to try to trick me into abandoning my throne, didn’t you Preta?”</p>
<p class="p1">“And it worked, didn’t it?” Preta choked. “You’re here. We’ll win. My brothers and sisters will be overwhelming the palace as we speak.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I wouldn’t bet on it, if I were you,” said Lucifer. “See, Detective? I’ve got everything under control.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh, well then,” she said, temper flaring even higher. “Apologies for <em>caring</em>, Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness, —”</p>
<p class="p1">“We usually just say ‘My Lord’,” Preta chimed in.</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh, <em>do you</em>.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You,” said Lucifer, giving the demon a shake. “Out of my sight. I’ll deal with you when I get back.”</p>
<p class="p1">The body that Preta was possessing slumped. Lucifer let him slide to the floor and slowly turned to face her. She lowered her weapon and holstered it.</p>
<p class="p1">“Won’t they realize you’re gone?”</p>
<p class="p1">“No. I put a demon on my throne,” he said.</p>
<p class="p1">“That’s a terrible plan,” said Chloe, squinting at him. Honestly, sometimes his brain was unfathomable.</p>
<p class="p1">“It’s not forever,” said Lucifer defensively. “I put him in my clothes, and it’s really high up, so no one can tell the difference from far away. I needed to buy myself a few minutes. I didn’t expect you’d be yelling at me.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I’ll yell at you as long as you keep stalking me from a different plane of existence —”</p>
<p class="p1">“<em>Stalking</em> is a bit harsh. I was helping!”</p>
<p class="p1">She spluttered at him, speechless. The nerve. The absolute nerve. “You bought my apartment building!” she cried.</p>
<p class="p1">He winced. At least he had the decency to look somewhat contrite. “Would you believe me if I told you that whole thing was a bit of an accident?”</p>
<p class="p1">“No, I would not,” she told him. “I <em>accidentally</em> bought a bag of decaf coffee yesterday, but I’m pretty sure you can’t just <em>accidentally</em> buy an apartment complex where your partner <em>just happens</em> to be moving to —”</p>
<p class="p1">“Would it be possible to have this argument later? I’ve got a slight demon rebellion on my hands —” </p>
<p class="p1">“Not my fault you charged back up here without thinking,” she huffed, and crossed her arms.</p>
<p class="p1">His eyes soften as he looked at her, as if her yells were the most soothing sound on earth. “I needed to make sure you were alright. I was worried about you.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Right, because I’m so helpless and fragile that I can’t even manage a single demon?”</p>
<p class="p1">“You’re perfectly capable of looking after yourself,” he said. His eyes were shining and soft as he gazed at her. Her anger flickered and dimmed under his attention.</p>
<p class="p1">“Don’t look at me like that,” she told him. “I’m so mad at you right now. Don’t you dare try to talk me down.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You’re not even a little happy to see me?” He shifted closer to her, the beginnings of a smile on his face.</p>
<p class="p1">She didn’t answer, merely scuffed her foot against the ground and sniffed. Crying while angry was terrible, but it was even worse when the anger melted away and she was left with only tears.</p>
<p class="p1">“I did it to make sure you were okay.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m okay,” she told him. “But you’re not, are you?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh, just a small rebellion,” he said breezily, as if every day he had to bodily threaten a demon. Perhaps he did. Perhaps that was his life now. “Lilith got bored one day and set a few things on fire, and everyone thought it was a lot of fun. It’ll die down soon enough.” That didn’t sound right to Chloe, not based on what Preta had said, but she didn’t challenge him, the fight drained out of her.</p>
<p class="p1">He reached for a small pouch that was hanging by his side and gave it to her. She took it numbly. “These are for you. A little — shall we say — insurance, in case any of them try a stunt like that again.”</p>
<p class="p1">It clicked and jingled as it moved. She opened the bag.</p>
<p class="p1">“Hell-forged bullets,” he told her. “My own invention, just for you. They’ll drop any celestial being — infernal or heavenly.” He looked her up and down. “You won’t shoot me right now, will you?”</p>
<p class="p1">She sniffed again, her eyes beginning to water. “No,” she croaked. “But you have to leave again, don’t you?”</p>
<p class="p1">“I must.” He leaned in to rest his forehead against hers. For a moment they were united, sharing breath and at peace with each other. Chloe closed her eyes and committed to memory the feel of him against her. Then, slowly, regretfully, he stepped back. “Goodbye, Chloe.”</p>
<p class="p1">The room was silent once more. Chloe let out a breath, commanding herself not to cry. The wound of Lucifer’s departure was ripped open again, and now it was so much worse; not only was he miserable in Hell, but he was fighting a rebellion. And no matter how flippant Lucifer was, she knew it was serious; there was no way we would have given her Hell-forged bullets if it weren’t.</p>
<p class="p1">There was a squeak behind her, and Chloe whirled around, drawing her weapon again.</p>
<p class="p1">Ella pushed herself up from the floor. “What just happened?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>"Preta" is a Sanskrit word that often is translated as "hungry ghost". In Buddhism, pretas are one of the six types of beings; they have enormous appetite but are unable to satiate their hunger or thirst. They occupy their own realm between hell and the human world.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Interlude: Oozed in Here Uninvited</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lucifer entertains his own unwelcome guest.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Hell was a dark and miserable place, and since Lucifer was the King of Hell, his palace was the darkest and most miserable location of them all. Sharp, jagged rocks thrust up against the grey sky. The throne sat perched on the pinnacle of a lonely tower, a symbol of his residence and dominion over Hell. Lucifer tried to avoid it whenever possible, and as of late had been away from the palace putting out fires — mostly literal.</p>
<p class="p1">The wing of the palace where Lucifer presided towered over the landscape, but the rest was not so much tall as it was wide. The doors were hidden in the centre of a labyrinth of shifting passageways that few could navigate successfully. It was useful in curbing demonic assassination attempts and, even worse, those who would seek to curry favour from the king.</p>
<p class="p1">His private quarters were buried deep in the maze, far away from raining ash and the needs of Hell’s denizens. Lucifer did not like to receive houseguests even in the best of circumstances, and he had never been terribly fond of this particular one.</p>
<p class="p1">“Lilith,” Lucifer greeted. “It’s been an age.” He held out a glass of wine — a syrupy substance that tasted like the bog it was fermented in, but widely praised among demons. “Have you come to assassinate me? I’m afraid your little trick to send me back to Earth and usurp the throne in my absence has failed.”</p>
<p class="p1">It was fortunate that his excursion had been brief — the Detective was wrong, his plan to have a demon decoy was brilliant and went off flawlessly, thank you <em>very</em> much  — and his rage upon returning was sufficient to quell the fighting. </p>
<p class="p1">For the moment. Lilith was sure to stir up some new fanatics to throw at him.</p>
<p class="p1">“Preta was a foolish boy,” said Lilith, stepping up beside him and accepting the glass with an elegant nod of her head. “I don’t condone his actions.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Don’t lie to me,” he snarled. As if she wasn’t the one egging them on from the sidelines. “It’s abhorrent.”</p>
<p class="p1">She tossed her head regally. “I would never, My Lord.”</p>
<p class="p1">Lilith had been a resident of Hell nearly as long as Lucifer had. They didn’t <em>like</em> each other, but both shared enough common grievances to be somewhat sympathetic to the other’s plight. Lilith spent most of her time in the company of beasts and demons — the full-blooded failed experiments his Father had put into Hell along with the rest of his more troublesome creations — while Lucifer dealt with the management and torture of human souls. She had always been happy to foist her children into his service with no apparent grudge about him commanding their loyalty. Their paths had seldom reason to cross, a fact which he was perfectly content with.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’ve dealt with your little miscreant,” he told her. It had been imperative to deal with Preta swiftly and severely, lest other demons got any clever ideas about defying his orders to stay in Hell. He was currently located in a dungeon in the abyss that ran under the palace; it was a special place where Lucifer put demons and other malcontents he wanted to disappear. Even if Preta managed to escape his chains, it would take him another thousand years to reach the edge. He always promised to review his judgement when they made it back.</p>
<p class="p1">No one had ever made it back.</p>
<p class="p1">“As is your right, as king,” said Lilith, inclining her head. “I am concerned, however — such a heavy hand breeds strife among the demons. It makes them long for a more gentle ruler, one who understands their needs.”</p>
<p class="p1">Lucifer snorted. “I’ve never heard something so massively incorrect in all my time,” he said. As if demons responded to anything except brute force and bribery. “And I suppose you think you’d be a better ruler?”</p>
<p class="p1">“I seek only to end the fighting,” she said, running a hand over her heavily pregnant stomach. “These are my children, after all. That is the true reason why I’ve come here today.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You’re the one who started the fighting,” he pointed out. “Don’t get too high and mighty over there.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You left us, Lucifer,” Lilith said, the first indication of anger flashing across her face. “How long were you away? Eight years on Earth? An aeon in Hell. Without a ruler, my children turned on one another, trying to create their own system of governance. I lost many children in those years.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Well, I’m back now. No need for demon infighting.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Yes, of course. You left without saying a word, and then you returned just as suddenly — and expect the realm to bow before you again, unchanged?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Yes,” said Lucifer. “Because Hell never changes. It just keeps going round and round in circles.”</p>
<p class="p1">Lilith shook her head. “This war was inevitable.”</p>
<p class="p1">“It most certainly was not. Your children slaughter each other, and for what? You cannot take the throne. We both know who set up that particular arrangement, so don’t bother complaining about it to me.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I cannot sit upon the throne, no,” she said. “But there is someone who can.”</p>
<p class="p1">He supposed it was worth the laugh to hear what lackey she was going to nominate for his position next. “Alright, I’ll bite,” he said. “Who do you think can take the throne from me?”</p>
<p class="p1">“No one will have to take the throne from you by force,” she said. “You will give it up willingly.” She touched a hand to her stomach. “To our child.”</p>
<p class="p1">He recoiled from her as if slapped. The thought of being with Lilith — Lilith, who pulled all manner of demons and beasts into her bed and birthed forth cunning, conniving, dangerous children — for such a purpose was nauseating. “We do not, nor will we ever, have a child,” he snapped.</p>
<p class="p1">“We could,” Lilith argued. “I never thought it possible, but it is — my children told me of the child born of an angel and a human. Such a child born of us, a daughter worthy of this power, could rule over Hell, both an angel <em>and</em> a sibling to the demons.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I know you don’t care about your children beyond assessing how useful they are to your warped ideas,” he said. “But I would never do such a thing. I would never father a child and then abandon it to this miserable place. I’m not <em>my</em> father.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You don’t think I care for my children?” Lilith said. “You don’t think it causes me great pain to watch them harm each other, when they have all come from me?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Your children are killing their siblings on your command,” Lucifer pointed out. “You are the one who drove them into battle. A half-angel would be no different.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Think about it. She could unite Hell. Those loyal to you would follow her. Those who wish for demonic rule would be satisfied. It is the best possible option. A daughter of Lucifer and Lilith, Heaven and Hell, would rule uncontested.”</p>
<p class="p1">“And I’m sure your plans end at ruling Hell, don’t they?” said Lucifer. “A child under your thumb, a child with <em>wings</em>, and you’d be content to remain in Hell for the rest of eternity, hm? No thoughts of being ferried up to Earth and staging a takeover?” He leaned forwards. “Was that how you got them on your side? Aeons of your children hating and ignoring you, and suddenly they’re eagerly falling in line?” He slammed his own glass down on the table, the putrid, sickly-sweet liquid sloshing out onto the table. “I don’t buy it. You promised them free rein over Earth.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I seek no dominion there.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh, please,” he said. “We both know you’re still angry at God for kicking you down to Hell. It’s why we’ve tolerated each other for so long — common ground. But don’t pretend you wouldn’t leap at the chance to reclaim what was taken from you. Especially now you’ve got a little demon army at your back.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I admit I have little love for our Creator,” she said. “He seemed under the belief that I owed Him gratitude and obedience for creating me in the first place. But I have no attachment to Earth. I would rather remain here with my children. And if one of my children were able to rule this realm, why — even better.”</p>
<p class="p1">“It is no option,” Lucifer said. There was a very long list of things he’d rather do, including climbing out of the Thousand-Year Abyss on his hands and knees, than create a child with the mother of demons. “That’s final, Lilith.”</p>
<p class="p1">Lilith raised her hands in defeat. “As you wish,” she said. “I cannot force you to do anything that you don’t wish to do.” She held her glass of wine out in front of her. “Of course, I’ll be sure to let my children know what transpired here tonight?”</p>
<p class="p1">“That you oozed in here uninvited and insist on sending your children to kill each other for no good reason?”</p>
<p class="p1">“No,” she said. She dropped her glass of wine to the floor, where it shattered against the polished black stone. She crouched down and selected a sizeable piece of glass from the mess. “I’ll tell them that I offered you a peaceful way to end the war, and you turned me down cold. That I wish for nothing else but to stem the slaughter, but you refused to listen to reason.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I hope you don’t think a little shard of glass is going to do any damage to me.”</p>
<p class="p1">Lilith slashed the glass against her own face. “You have such a violent temper,” she said.</p>
<p class="p1">“Get out,” said Lucifer. “And take your poison with you.”</p>
<p class="p1">Lilith smiled as the blood dripped down her face to the floor.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Hard Pass</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Everyone joins together for an emergency celestial meeting.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“Okay, so let me get this straight,” said Ella, pausing for a moment to hyperventilate once more into her paper bag. “Lucifer is like, <em>Lucifer</em> Lucifer. Which means that Maze is a demon. And Amenadiel and Michael are angels. And the Big Guy totally exists. All of it, everything, is true.”</p>
<p class="p1">Everyone looked at each other in affirmation. They were gathered — Maze, Amenadiel, Michael, Chloe, Linda, and Ella — for an emergency meeting in Lucifer’s penthouse, where Chloe suspected it had been the site of many emergency celestial conferences. Even baby Charlie was there, although he was strapped to Amenadiel’s chest, currently asleep and drooling.</p>
<p class="p1">Ella wasn’t exactly ready to deal with all this, but Chloe couldn’t drop this bomb on her and then leave the poor girl alone. Being alone hadn’t been such a great idea for Chloe herself.</p>
<p class="p1">All things considered, she had expected a worse reaction. Ella hadn’t even asked to see her priest yet.</p>
<p class="p1">“Pretty much, yeah,” said Maze. “Can we focus on the important part here, not Ellen’s mental breakdown? There’s a war in Hell. That’s a big deal. We need to go down there.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Lucifer should expect disobedience and unrest from such lawless beings,” said Michael. He was back to wearing his armour and had a ferocious sword unsheathed and held point-down in front of him. “If he is incapable of controlling his subjects, that is his problem.”</p>
<p class="p1">“And if demons start possessing humans and slaughtering them, that’s an angel problem,” snarled Maze, pointing one of her knives at him. “Aren’t you feathery idiots supposed to protect them, or something?”</p>
<p class="p1">“No,” he said. “We protect the Silver City. What happens on the Earthly plane is of little importance.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Well, thanks,” said Chloe, smoothing a hand over Ella’s hair. “That makes us feel so much better.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You are welcome.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Did Lucifer say anything else?” asked Amenadiel, shooting his brother a glare. “Anything that could give us a clue as to what’s going on down there?”</p>
<p class="p1">“He mentioned the name Lilith,” said Chloe. Maze and Amenadiel glanced at each other. “Who is she? Is she another demon?”</p>
<p class="p1">There was a moment of silence. “No,” Maze said finally. “She’s my mother.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh,” said Linda. “<em>Oh</em>. That sounds bad.”</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe silently agreed. She didn’t know much about the mechanics of Heaven and Hell, angels and demons; it never seemed like the right time to get the extended lecture. She sort of had the impression that demons sprung fully-formed out of the mud, ready to torture and kill. Even before she knew Maze was a demon, she’d never imagined what her mother would be like. The idea that there was a being in Hell who was responsible for giving birth to Maze and every other demon she’d met was, frankly, terrifying.</p>
<p class="p1">“Lilith was Adam’s first wife,” said Ella, slack-jawed.</p>
<p class="p1">“So you’re not totally useless after all,” said Maze. “Yeah, God made Lilith and Adam out of clay, or whatever. But then He told them that they were supposed to be married and have a bunch of kids, and mom was like, hard pass, because Adam was a complete dopey loser. Then she went to hang out with some beasts and demons who’d crawled up from Hell. God got all pissy, kicked Lilith into Hell, and ripped out one of Adam’s ribs to make Eve. I mean, that’s the short version, anyway.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Wait, was that Eve, as in —” Ella whispered, turning her head around to meet Chloe’s eyes.</p>
<p class="p1">“Yes,” Chloe whispered back. “But don’t think about it too hard.” She didn’t need her to remember that she’d made out with Eve while high on cocaine given to her by the Devil. Judging by Ella’s renewed use of the paper bag, she already had.</p>
<p class="p1">“I thought Lucifer and Lilith got along,” remarked Amenadiel. “She’s never fought him before.”</p>
<p class="p1">Maze shrugged. “They don’t interact much,” she said. “Lucifer doesn’t tell her what to do, and Lilith sticks to her own little section. But if she’s starting a fight, that’s bad.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Why?” asked Chloe.</p>
<p class="p1">“Most of the demons in Hell are her children,” Maze explained. “Me, Dromos, Squee, Preta, all the ones who showed up at the Mayan. There aren’t actually too many full-blooded demons left these days; most of us are Lilim. Lilith isn’t exactly winning Mother of Year down there, and most of us are loyal to Lucifer. But if enough of them come around to her side…”</p>
<p class="p1">“And there’s only one Lucifer to keep them under control,” said Amenadiel.</p>
<p class="p1">“There are some I know will always be faithful to Lucifer,” said Maze. “Sitri, Haagenti, Vepar… But he was gone for a long time. The youngest of the Lilim wouldn’t have known his rule and might be more easily swayed by Lilith.”</p>
<p class="p1">“But there are more angels,” Chloe said. “In Heaven. Couldn’t some angels fly down to Hell and help Lucifer out? Would they be able to win if it came to a battle?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Of course angels can defeat Lilith,” said Michael dismissively. “Demons are no match for the Heavenly Host.” Maze spun a knife around her finger and looked as if she would dearly love to throw it.</p>
<p class="p1">“Great,” said Chloe. “Then that’s what I vote for. Bring in some angels, stomp out a demon rebellion, problem solved.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Do I get a vote too?” asked Ella, raising her hand. “Because if I do, that’s what I’m voting for.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I’ll put in a third for that,” said Linda.</p>
<p class="p1">“See, everyone agrees,” said Chloe. “Amenadiel? Maze? You too, right Michael? You want to help Lucifer out?”</p>
<p class="p1">Michael tilted his head to the side. “Of course I want to help my brother,” he said as if it were a foregone conclusion.</p>
<p class="p1">“So it’s settled!” said Chloe. “Angels in, no more war in Hell, right?”</p>
<p class="p1">Her words were met with silence. Michael twirled the hilt of his sword. Amenadiel was stony faced. “Right?” she repeated.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m sorry, Chloe,” said Amenadiel gravely. “But it’s not going to happen. The angels will not assist.”</p>
<p class="p1">“What? Why not?” Chloe demanded. “You’re family. Your brother needs your help and you’re just going to do nothing?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Yes,” said Michael. “Because there’s only one vote that counts.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Yours?” Chloe said bitterly.</p>
<p class="p1">“No,” said Michael gently. “God’s. If God wished for us to fight against Lilith and her forces in Hell, He would give the order.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You could explain to Him —” Chloe began.</p>
<p class="p1">“He does not need an explanation,” interrupted Michael firmly, lifting a hand to stop her. “He is aware of the situation. He is omniscient. He sees and understands things that we cannot possibly comprehend. So if, in His wisdom, He does not send His angels to fight, then we must trust that there is a reason why.”</p>
<p class="p1">She had heard the whole <em>God moves in mysterious ways</em> line from humans before, and always thought it was bullshit. Hearing an angel say the same thing was even worse.</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe could see the truth, then, with perfect clarity, the blind faith that Michael possessed; how he could have cast his own brother, his twin, out of Heaven. He believed so perfectly and completely in God’s plan that he trusted throwing Lucifer into Hell was the right thing to do. He trusted there was some purpose, some end to it all that he just couldn’t see but would believe in.</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe shook her head slowly. “I don’t accept that.”</p>
<p class="p1">“This is not a democracy,” said Michael. “You do not have a say.”</p>
<p class="p1">“She may not,” said Amenadiel. “But I do.”</p>
<p class="p1">“The Heavenly Host is under my command,” his brother replied with a frown. “I was appointed by God Himself. They do not follow you.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You may command the Host, brother,” said Amenadiel, getting to his feet. “But you don’t command me.”</p>
<p class="p1">“What are you doing?” Michael asked.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m going to help Lucifer,” said Amenadiel. “Just like you want to.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Father has not told us to do so.”</p>
<p class="p1">“No, Michael, He hasn’t,” said Amenadiel. “Maybe Father wants us to decide for ourselves to step in and come to Lucifer’s aid.” With infinite gentleness, he lifted Charlie into his arms, unstrapped the carrier, and transferred everything to Linda.</p>
<p class="p1">“He’s going to miss you,” Linda whispered. “So will I. Please be safe.”</p>
<p class="p1">Amenadiel smiled. “You’ll take such good care of him, he’ll hardly know I’m gone,” he said softly. “Doing this will help keep Charlie safe, too.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m coming with you,” said Chloe, stepping forward. She had been forced to the side too many times; there was no way that she was going to stay here again while Lucifer needed her help.</p>
<p class="p1">Amenadiel shook his head. “I’m sorry, Chloe,” he said. “I can’t take you with me. It’s not that you aren’t capable; living humans can’t cross into the celestial realms. You would die and become another soul in Hell.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I’ll go with you,” announced Maze, shoving her way past Michael. “Hell is my home. If there’s a war, I should be there fighting with Lucifer.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I can’t just sit here and do nothing,” Chloe insisted desperately. She couldn’t be left behind again. “Michael may be fine with it, but I’m not.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You’re not going to sit here and do nothing,” said Amenadiel. “You’re going to get justice for all these people killed in the city. You’re going to make Los Angeles a better, safer place. That’s not nothing.”</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe nodded, her throat too tight to speak.</p>
<p class="p1">“At least do something useful on Earth,” Maze told Michael.</p>
<p class="p1">“Brother,” said Amenadiel. “Watch over Linda and Charlie for me. Make sure they’re safe.” At his brother’s nod, he pulled Maze close to him and unfurled his great dark wings.</p>
<p class="p1">And with that, they were gone.</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe rounded on Michael. “What’s the point of you being here if you’re not going to help? Come on, Ella.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Ella croaked, and darted for the bathroom.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’ll get her,” Linda said, briefly touching Chloe on the arm before following Ella into the other room.</p>
<p class="p1">Michael turned to face her once more. “I thought you of all people would understand my position on this.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Why? I want to help Lucifer. Your help could save his life and you’ve decided to do nothing.”</p>
<p class="p1">“No,” he corrected. “I thought you would understand because of your close relationship with God.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t have a relationship with God.”</p>
<p class="p1">He frowned. “But you do,” he insisted.</p>
<p class="p1">“Because of Lucifer? He hasn’t spoken to your Father in a long time. I’m not sure I’m His biggest fan either.”</p>
<p class="p1">“But you are a Miracle. A child born through divine intervention to parents who otherwise would never have conceived.”</p>
<p class="p1">The world was strangely tilted, and there was a ringing resounding in her ears. “That’s not true.”</p>
<p class="p1">“It is. God put you on Earth. He sent Amenadiel to bless your mother with a child. I remember. I was there when He graced your soul with immunity to Lucifer’s power. You have a connection.”</p>
<p class="p1">There it was, the answer to a question she had asked herself for so long: why was she immune to Lucifer when no one else was?</p>
<p class="p1">Because God made her immune.</p>
<p class="p1">Because God specifically put her on Earth.</p>
<p class="p1">Because she wasn’t even supposed to be here.</p>
<p class="p1">And she got to hear it all, nonchalantly and matter-of-fact, from someone who looked exactly like Lucifer but <em>wasn’t</em>.</p>
<p class="p1">“I need to leave,” she said. “I just can’t deal with — <em>you</em> — right now.” She turned through Lucifer’s bedroom into the bathroom, where Ella was splashing water on her face under Linda’s supervision.</p>
<p class="p1">“Everything okay in here?” It was easier to focus on someone else than to deal with the panic and existential crisis that was looming at the edge of her mind. She pushed it down firmly and turned her complete attention to her friend, who was looking rather pale. Later. She could deal with it later.</p>
<p class="p1">“I threw up in the Devil’s toilet,” Ella informed her miserably.</p>
<p class="p1">“I think I need to take you home,” Linda said. “I have a spare room if you don’t feel like you want to be alone right now. I know how destabilizing all this can be. Isn’t that right, Charlie?” Charlie, awake now, gurgled happily.</p>
<p class="p1">“I need to hug Margaret,” Ella said. Linda glanced over at Chloe; she mouthed ‘chicken’. </p>
<p class="p1">“Let’s get you home,” Chloe repeated firmly. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”</p>
<p class="p1">Maybe that would even be true.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. All Our Tumultuous History</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Chloe has some important conversations.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">The elevator doors dinged and opened, and Chloe stepped out into Lucifer’s penthouse. It was thankfully empty; after the previous day’s big meeting, Michael had been laying low. She didn’t know what he did with himself when she wasn’t looking, but it seemed he wasn’t camping out in Lucifer’s penthouse. That was a good thing. She wasn’t much in the mood to navigate him.</p>
<p class="p1">She made her way to the bar and poured herself a drink, tracing patterns on the top of the wood. It was clean; she’d retained the cleaning services Lucifer had set up to come in every week. If — <em>when</em> he came back, it would be to a spotless home.</p>
<p class="p1">She settled outside, under the stars, and looked up. She didn’t need to be here to have this conversation, but it felt right somehow. Like being high up made her closer to Heaven and easier to hear.</p>
<p class="p1">“I don’t know if You can hear me, or if You’re listening, or if You care, but Michael believes we have some sort of connection, so —” she sighed, running her hand across her face.</p>
<p class="p1">What did you say when you find out you’re a miracle put on Earth through the direct divine intervention of God? What did you think? How did you feel? She wished there was someone else in the same situation, so she could ask them, but it seemed like she was on her own for this one.</p>
<p class="p1">And no matter how many times she thought about it, no matter how many times the ideas swirled through her brain, her gut drew her back to the same conclusion.</p>
<p class="p1">“Why me? I don’t know what You want from me. I’m not anyone special. I’m a cop, ex-actress, divorcee. I’m not powerful or famous and I’m not changing the world. I’m not a great inventor or scientist or artist. If You put me here for some grand purpose, I am not what You think I am.</p>
<p class="p1">“I should feel grateful or thankful, I suppose. I wouldn’t exist… well, nothing would exist. So I know I should be --” she gestured vaguely, trying to find the right answer. “I should feel pious, or something. Happy. Thankful. But I don’t.”</p>
<p class="p1">The stars twinkled in the dark. The sounds of the city drifted up from below, washing her in a layer of sound. There were no sudden gusts of wind, no cloudbursts, no flashes of lightning, no sign that her words were being heard at all. She pressed on.</p>
<p class="p1">“I feel — <em>angry</em>. What am I to You? Do You even think of me as my own person? Or —” she paused, the horrible, sickly thought that had lodged itself into her mind refusing to be quietly discarded. “Or am I just another way to manipulate Lucifer? A person You dangled in front of him to trick him into loving someone so he’d care enough to go back to Hell willingly? Are these feelings even real? Did I fall in love with Lucifer because of me or did You decide that too? I —” She took a deep breath and let it out.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m <em>mad</em>. I’m mad at the idea of being some puppet in a grand design I have no control over. That I was put here to play a part in some performance or manipulation and I have no say in any of it.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m mad at how You treated Lucifer. You cast him out, You ignore him, and he’s Your son. I can’t imagine my daughter could ever do anything so terrible that I would abandon her like that. And I’ve felt like this before I even knew You were — well, You.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m not a god or a celestial being, but I am a parent. And sometimes I make rules or decisions that my daughter doesn’t fully understand. Even if she doesn’t, I still try to explain things to her. Because I owe her that much. And I think maybe You owe Your children that, as well.</p>
<p class="p1">“I don’t need a sign or a divine intervention. The only thing I can do is live my life. I’m going to continue my work as a detective, and protect people, because that is what makes my life meaningful. However I got here, this is who I am and what makes me happy. And You don’t get a say in that.”</p>
<p class="p1">She glanced up at the sky one more time. “I’m going to go inside now,” she said. “Good talk, I guess.”</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p2">Michael stood by her desk, holding a bouquet of flowers awkwardly in front of him. He was perfectly visible from her line of sight on the stairs, angled in a way to intercept her on her way in. Chloe refused to acknowledge him as she stomped past and sat down, swivelling her chair as far from him as possible.</p>
<p class="p1">“I purchased these flowers for you,” Michael told her, undeterred. He thrust them in her direction. A few petals brushed against the arm of her chair. </p>
<p class="p1">She turned slightly and squinted up at him. She’d never met anyone so aggravatingly <em>clueless</em> in her entire life. As if buying a few daisies and baby’s breath would make everything alright again or make her forget that the man she loved was fighting a war without his twin’s assistance. “Seriously? Go away. You’re not helping — which apparently, you’re great at.” She reached into her desk drawer for a pen and slammed it shut again.</p>
<p class="p1">“You are angry with me.” He pushed the flowers closer to her until they were practically up her nose. “I was informed that purchasing flowers would make you less angry. Are they working?”</p>
<p class="p1">“No, they are not working,” she said, every word clipped and precise. She grabbed the flowers away from her face and tossed them directly into the trash. Michael watched their trajectory with a frown. “You know why? Because Lucifer actually needs your help, and you won’t lift a finger unless Daddy tells you to.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I have faith in God’s plan.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Well, I don’t.” Miracle or not — whatever that meant — she wasn’t overflowing with confidence in a supposed plan. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She continued in a low voice. “I don’t understand how someone could know what’s happening and do nothing, and not even bother to explain to anyone why. That’s not wisdom. It’s just cruel.” She glanced upwards.</p>
<p class="p1">Michael was silent. He stood rigidly in a way that unnerved her; she didn’t like to see a body that was so similar to Lucifer’s but without the expressive mannerisms and never-ending charm that exuded from him. Being around Michael was like hanging out with a funhouse mirror version of Lucifer, and she desperately wanted it to stop.</p>
<p class="p1">It was possible — alright, fine, it was extremely accurate — that she felt guilty about yelling at Lucifer when he’d come all the way from Hell to protect her. It seemed so silly, now, to be upset about these things when his life was in danger and there was an entire realm on the verge of chaos.</p>
<p class="p1">She just — she wanted him safe, and home, and not to be so stupid, and here was Michael, a stark reminder of everything she could have but wasn’t allowed to. He could be sweeping in with wings and battle armour and his big stupid sword to save the day, but instead he was standing in the LAPD homicide department in his twin’s suit, looking confused about a bunch of flowers.</p>
<p class="p1">And then there was Chloe, who had nothing to do except turn to her computer and type in her name and password. </p>
<p class="p1">“This is difficult for me, as well,” Michael said softly. She paused in her typing, but didn’t turn around to face him. “For all our tumultuous history, Lucifer is my brother and I care for him deeply. The last thing I want is to see him in pain or suffering.”</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe dropped her hands away from the keyboard. Michael continued. </p>
<p class="p1">“I have to believe that Father would tell me if my help were needed. I must trust in his judgement.”</p>
<p class="p1">She couldn’t imagine having the sort of blind, unquestioning faith that Michael possessed. She had always been one to question and take the lead; it was what made her a good detective, and what had also caused her to be ostracized from the department following the debacle of Palmetto. Michael took no chances and seemed happy to follow the leader in all cases — altogether the exact opposite of his twin.</p>
<p class="p1">On the other hand, Lucifer had changed, even in the relatively short time that she’d known him. He was in the process of growing and evolving; the Devil who’d gone back to Hell of his own volition to protect the ones he loved was not the same reckless and amoral man she’d met a few years before. If Lucifer — the original fallen angel himself — was capable of change, who was to say that other angels weren’t also on the path to growing and adapting?</p>
<p class="p1">Perhaps all he needed was a little nudge in the right direction.</p>
<p class="p1">“Michael,” she said softly. “I believe that we make our own choices in life. And maybe your Father wants you to decide for yourself what to do. Make your own choices.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Amenadiel’s theory of self-actualization.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Not just a theory. I’ve seen it, in Lucifer’s case.” She leaned forward. “I do have faith that is your Father’s intention for you. So if you want to help Lucifer… that’s what you should do.”</p>
<p class="p1">He frowned. “If He wanted me to decide for myself, why did He not inform me of that?”</p>
<p class="p1">She tried valiantly not to smile. “Wouldn’t that kinda defeat the purpose?” Michael looked down. “Just — think about it. Somewhere else,” she added. “Go talk to Linda. I have work to do.”</p>
<p class="p1">She wasn’t about to hold his hand through a spiritual awakening. He could go terrorize a real therapist for that. She had her own identity crisis to work through.</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p2">The terrible thing about having her ex husband staying in her guest bedroom was that it gave her much more flexibility to indulge in a few more post-work excursions to Lux. Hey, if even Hell was going to hell, why not have a drink or two, right?</p>
<p class="p1">Lux was packed, although a Friday night would do that. She struggled her way through the crowd and up towards the bar.</p>
<p class="p1">“Chloe?” She found herself being aggressively hugged.</p>
<p class="p1">“Eve?” She blinked. There she was, bubbly and sun-kissed and practically floating. “What are you doing here?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh well, you know, got out to see the world,” Eve said breezily. “Thought I’d swing through and catch up with everybody. Come on! Let’s find a booth.”</p>
<p class="p1">It was easy to let Eve pull her along and push her into one of the booths.  “Where did you end up going?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh, around,” she said. “I’ve been in Europe, mostly. I thought I’d drop in, say hi, and then I’m going down to South America.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Sounds like quite the adventure.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I guess it is. I’ve been around forever but I haven’t seen all that many places. I’ve only heard stories from other people. Now I get to live it for myself.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Well, I’m happy for you, Eve,” Chloe told her, although her smile was forced. It was hard to forget the role Eve had played in bringing the demons to Earth in the first place. </p>
<p class="p1">Perhaps that wasn’t fair. She wasn’t the cause of the unrest in Hell. Who could say what the situation would be like if Lucifer hadn’t gone back. </p>
<p class="p1">“So, um,” Eve said, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Is Maze around? Or Lucifer? I haven’t seen them yet.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Eve…” Chloe started. She didn’t know. How could she know? She left at almost the exact time Lucifer did, and he didn’t say goodbye to anyone besides Chloe. “Lucifer went back to Hell. Months ago. Right after the whole thing with Charlie. Things are not going so well down there. Maze and Amenadiel went down there to help him out. You missed them by about a week.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Chloe, I had no idea,” Eve said, her eyes wide.</p>
<p class="p1">“So now we just get to wait and see. Hence the whiskey.” She lifted her glass in a mock cheers and downed half the glass in one go.</p>
<p class="p1">Eve gripped her hand, determinedly cheerful. “They’ll make it through! Maze and Amenadiel will help. You’ll see.”</p>
<p class="p1">“They could have more help,” Chloe grumbled. At Eve’s questioning look, she elaborated. “Michael is in town.” </p>
<p class="p1">“Ah.” Eve nodded knowingly, as if that explained everything. Maybe it did; Eve must have known Michael for nearly as long as she’d known Lucifer. </p>
<p class="p1">Something clicked, and she put down her drink. Of course. She’d wanted to speak to someone who was created by God, and that someone walked right back into town. </p>
<p class="p1">It was suspiciously good timing. She narrowed her eyes at the ceiling before turning back to Eve.</p>
<p class="p1">“Can I ask you a question?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Of course.”</p>
<p class="p1">“How did you…” she trailed off, trying to figure out how to put her thoughts into words. “You were created by God. For Adam. How did you deal with that? Weren’t you angry?”</p>
<p class="p1">She considered it. “At the time? No. I didn’t know any different. It was my life. Adam and I got along alright, but there was no fire, you know? No passion. Lucifer was the one who opened my eyes and showed me that I could want something else.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You’ve spoken to Him, though, right? God? What do you even say to the person — being — who created you?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Spoken? I mean, I’ve heard His voice. We’ve never had a conversation, though. I don’t know what I’d say to Him if I were in front of Him now. I don’t imagine I’m His favourite creation.” She gave a nervous laugh. “Thinking about all the things you’d say to Him if you got the chance?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Pretty much,” she muttered. </p>
<p class="p1">It was one thing to yell at the sky, but what would she do if she were faced with God Himself? She liked to think she’d have the courage to march right up and give Him a piece of her mind and deliver the rant that had been building in her mind for as long as she’d known Lucifer. What was the worst He could do to her? Toss her into Hell? She had connections.</p>
<p class="p1">Of course, it was one thing to imagine the situation, and quite another when faced with the real thing. She might cower and weep. She might be stunned into silence. She might genuinely, honestly, really like Him.</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe sighed and rested her head on her folded arms. “Life was a lot more simple when I thought Lucifer was a crazy person with too much money,” she grumbled. “I never used to have an existential crisis every week.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Yeah,” Eve said dreamily. “But life like this is way more interesting.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Can’t argue with that,” Chloe told her, sitting up straight and clinking their glasses together. “Cheers.”</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">From across the room, Lilith eyed the pair in the booth. So this was the famous Chloe Decker, the one who had the <em>former</em> King of Hell so besotted? A mopey blonde who seemed incapable of smiling?</p>
<p class="p1">She examined the petite and bubbly brunette beside her. Could she be a threat? Naturally, she looked naive and clueless, but it was always possible for looks to be deceiving. It wouldn’t do for her to be an angel or another being of power who could make her life difficult.</p>
<p class="p1">Her son shifted beside her. “This body is uncomfortable,” he whined. “Can’t we just kill her and go home?”</p>
<p class="p1">“That isn’t the plan,” Lilith told him impatiently. Honestly, how many times did she have to repeat herself?</p>
<p class="p1">He grumbled and took a swig of his drink. “At least the alcohol is good.”</p>
<p class="p1">She ignored him. There were far better Earthly delights than whatever cheap mead he’d gotten his hands on. She traced the edge of her blade and the fine, feather-like etchings along the side.</p>
<p class="p1">It was still tacky with Lucifer’s blood.</p>
<p class="p1">She smiled. Killing Lucifer Morningstar hadn’t been part of her plan, either, but she couldn’t deny it had been satisfying all the same. Perhaps there was some room for improvisation after all.</p>
<p class="p1">“Come,” she ordered, rising to her feet. “We have work to do.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Interlude: Eternity Killing Each Other</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lucifer finds himself in an unpleasant situation.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Lucifer spat a mouthful of blood onto the stone, where it mixed with the rest of the blood spreading across the ground. “I can’t believe I’m going to die like this. How wretched.” Lying outside his palace in Hell surrounded by an oncoming horde of angry demons was not how he imagined going. To think, he once thought he had no further to fall.</p>
<p class="p1">“You’re not going to die,” Maze snarled at him. She and a few loyal — and perhaps foolish — demons formed a barrier in front of him, shielding him from the oncoming army. “Stop being dramatic. Mom gives you a little pinprick and suddenly it’s the end of the world? I don’t think so.” She kicked out at a demon who ventured too close, then reeled him in to slit his throat.</p>
<p class="p1">Not the end of the world, no, but likely the end of Lucifer. What would happen to him if he died in Hell? On Earth his death brought him down to Hell; would his soul stay here? In that case, the journey ahead would be a short one indeed. Would he be left adrift, untethered to a body, or would he find his home in a loop alongside the souls he once ruled?</p>
<p class="p1">To say nothing or whether or not death by a celestial blade would simply cause him to blink out of existence. How fitting, then, that he may cease to exist in the same manner that befell his older brother.</p>
<p class="p1">How he could have allowed Lilith to get so close was a mystery. One moment she was nowhere to be seen, and he was dispatching one of her minions, and the next she had sidled up to him with a stolen knife to slide the blade into a gap in his armour.</p>
<p class="p1">It was embarrassing, really. There were much better — or at least interesting — ways to end it all.</p>
<p class="p1">“A knife to the gut isn’t my preferred method to go,” he remarked, unperturbed by a fresh spray of blood across his face as Maze sliced her way through a new foe. What was another layer at this point? “If I had to choose, I’d go with asphyxiation between a set of thighs.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Stop complaining and I’ll see to it that Decker suffocates you herself.” Maze swiped at a demon who was too close for her taste, who danced out of reach of her blades.</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe. He’d never see Chloe again, certainly. A deep ache lodged itself in his gut that had nothing to do with the knife. The best case scenario was that he would be able to possess the body of a newly-departed soul and — and what? It would hardly be the same. He had done many cruel things in his time, but perhaps nothing would be as cruel as asking Chloe to love him while he existed in a temporary, intermittent state. The best he could hope for would be to see her from afar and watch over her, her very own guardian devil.</p>
<p class="p1">And then after her death, that would be the end. They would be permanently separated, forever. There was no way she would go to Hell, and there was no way he was getting into Heaven.</p>
<p class="p1">He always knew it was coming, but he thought he’d have a little more time. Maybe he would have had the chance for a sneaky visit here and there. Maybe there would have been time for one last kiss. One last meal. A night together. The morning after.</p>
<p class="p1">All gone, now.</p>
<p class="p1">It was hard to hold himself upright. He slumped to the side. </p>
<p class="p1">“Lucifer is dying!” A demon hollered from further back. “The king is dead! Long live the queen!”</p>
<p class="p1">A volley of jeers and cries followed the announcement, but none advanced further. Mazikeen and her allies held their ground.</p>
<p class="p1">“If you want a queen so much,” Maze called out above the din, “then you can bow down to <em>me</em>.” She bared her teeth.</p>
<p class="p1">There was a rumble from the crowd, and a demon surged forward to meet her. “Lilith is our queen!” He hissed, swinging at her. She dispatched him swiftly, his blood spraying down her left side as he dropped to the ground.</p>
<p class="p1">“Lilith doesn’t care about any of us.” She twirled her knives and keeping her eyes on her opponents. “She abandoned us. You think she cares who rules Hell? She used this whole war as an excuse to slip out the gates.”</p>
<p class="p1">“A lie,” snarled a demon.</p>
<p class="p1">“Look around you! She’s not here anymore! We could spend the rest of eternity killing each other and she would never even notice. She doesn’t care about us. She never has.”</p>
<p class="p1">A blood curdling yell came from her right; Maze turned, and her knives slid cleanly across the demon’s throat.</p>
<p class="p1">“Hell is <em>mine</em>,” she snarled, kicking the body away from her. “You may kneel willingly, or I will sever you at the knees so you have no choice <em>but</em> to kneel.”</p>
<p class="p1">It was a challenge to breathe, let alone speak, but Lucifer made an attempt. Someone had filled his mouth and throat with sludge; the words had to fight their way out. “Queen Maze.”</p>
<p class="p1">More blood dribbled down his chin. He hated the feeling, but when he tried to lift his hand to swipe it away, he discovered he could no longer move them.</p>
<p class="p1">One of the demons fighting alongside Maze turned and thrust his short sword into the ground before her, coming into a kneel. “Queen Mazikeen!” He cried. Rallying calls echoed around them in counterpoint to the screams of rage.</p>
<p class="p1">Lucifer slumped further behind her. The stone floor was hot, as usual, but it was pleasant. He was rather cold at the moment, his entire body wracked with exhaustion. His eyes slipped closed. Maze would make a good queen, he thought. Not like him. He wanted anything and everything else too much.</p>
<p class="p1">There was the rustle of feathers, and hisses and gasps from the demons. He tried to see who it was, but someone had replaced his eyelids with lead weights.</p>
<p class="p1">“Rest, brother,” said the voice. The sensation of warm floors ended abruptly and the world titled strangely. “I have you.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Go,” commanded Maze. “Get him out of here. I’ve got this.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I will return,” the voice promised, and then they were in flight, the heat and ash of Hell falling away.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Ending Something</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ella bonds with Michael, and Chloe receives a nasty surprise.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“So,” said Ella, clutching an evidence bag with more force than necessary. “You’re Michael.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Yes,” Michael said. He frowned slightly. “We have met before.”</p>
<p class="p1">They stood on either side of the table, as if the distance would help to give some clarity to the situation.</p>
<p class="p1">“And you and Lucifer are… twins.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Yes. But do not worry,” he said in what he probably thought was an assuring tone. “We are not identical. Our wings are different colours.”</p>
<p class="p1">“The Bible left out <em>a lot</em>,” Ella muttered. “No one ever told me Michael and the Devil were twins.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Is this important to you? That the Morningstar and I are twins? I confess I do not understand the relevance.”</p>
<p class="p1">“It’s <em>wild</em>. Are there other angels that are twins?”</p>
<p class="p1">“No.”</p>
<p class="p1">“So why you guys?”</p>
<p class="p1">“I do not know.”</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe debated whether to intervene on their conversation. On the one hand, she should probably put a stop to it before Ella twisted herself into knots or had another panic attack. On the other hand, it was good for her to ask questions, and Michael didn’t appear bothered by the conversation. It was good for him to socialize, anyway. <em>And</em> they were in a conference room, so there was some amount of privacy. Decision made, she turned back to the financial records in front of her.</p>
<p class="p1">It was nice, she realized. It was nice to have other people in the know — to have <em>Ella</em> in the know. She didn’t want to have to hide this new part of her life, that she didn’t have to freak about about new developments alone.</p>
<p class="p1">And for a moment, she could even fool herself into believing that it was <em>Lucifer</em> and Ella talking about celestial matters in the precinct. But then Michael opened his mouth and all the words and cadence of Lucifer’s speech was absent, and it hurt all the more. It wasn’t Michael’s fault that he had an identical twin, but it certainly didn’t help matters.</p>
<p class="p1">Enough, she scolded herself firmly. She couldn’t blame Michael for doing what he believed was right, even if she wholeheartedly felt it was the wrong decision. He would come around or he wouldn’t. She just hoped that he would figure things out before Lucifer wound up killed.</p>
<p class="p1">With her right hand she idly played with the clip of Hell-forged bullets Lucifer had given her. She’d taken to carrying them with her everywhere; there was no telling these days when a demon might pop up in a fresh corpse. The fact that she wasn’t currently being over-run was a good sign, wasn’t it?</p>
<p class="p1">Surely no news was good news.</p>
<p class="p1">Right?</p>
<p class="p1">She shook herself out of it. Now was not the time for wallowing. She brought her attention back to the conversation in front of her.</p>
<p class="p1">“— must seem all trivial to you,” Ella was saying with a nervous laugh.</p>
<p class="p1">Michael tilted his head as if considering this comment. “No,” he said finally with a serious air. “You do important work, making sure that others are safe and those responsible brought to justice. That is not, as you say, trivial. On the contrary, it is vital. I do not believe these detectives could function without you.”</p>
<p class="p1">“That — that’s a nice perspective. Thanks.” Ella bit her lip against a big grin. “I’m gonna get some coffee. Do you want some coffee? Have you ever had a frappuccino? Okay you gotta try it, stay here, I’ll be right back —”</p>
<p class="p1">There was silence in the room. Michael watched Ella bounce her way to the elevator.</p>
<p class="p1">“That was very kind,” Chloe told him.</p>
<p class="p1">He was silent for a long moment. She wasn’t sure he had even heard her, and refocused her efforts on the paperwork in front of her. At last he spoke.</p>
<p class="p1">“My Father has a way of making everyone feel important,” said Michael. “No matter what it is you do or how you contribute. Everyone has a purpose, and fulfilling that purpose is essential to the universe running smoothly. If you take away one piece, it affects all the others. I have always found that — comforting, to be part of a larger whole that creates meaning. I hope it creates joy in others as well.”</p>
<p class="p1">She tapped her pen against the table, considering this. “Do you think I was made for a purpose?”</p>
<p class="p1">He nodded immediately. “You have purpose. Whether or not you have fulfilled it, I do not know.” He looked down. “I always thought I knew what my purpose was, but perhaps in this I was wrong as well.”</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe wasn’t a therapist; she didn’t always know the right things to say or how to guide a person through these sorts of emotional journeys. But she had spent a lot of time with Lucifer, and Lucifer was great at distracting people.</p>
<p class="p1">“I hope you like sweet things,” she told him. “Because whatever Ella got you is going to be like 90% sugar.”</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p2">Later in the evening, Chloe got out of her car and trudged up the path to her front door. What day was it again? Would she have to make dinner, or would it be alright to get take-out? She shouldn’t; Dan was still staying with them and needed to be on a healthy diet. It didn’t help that he was the biggest pushover in the universe and was such a bad influence on their daughter. If she had <em>two</em> pairs of brown eyes begging her to order pizza ‘just this once’, she might cave.</p>
<p class="p1">Pulling her keys out of her bag, she stopped short. The front door of the apartment was ajar.</p>
<p class="p1">There was no reason why it should be open. Over the past few years she had been hyper-vigilant about keeping the door locked at all times. Locks didn’t stop the Devil, but they slowed down would-be murderers and kidnappers. Trixie and Dan both knew the rules and followed them diligently.</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe drew her gun, and after a moment of hesitation, loaded it with the clip of Hell-forged bullets. She nudged the door further open with her foot and stepped over the threshold.</p>
<p class="p1">There was Dan, gagged and tied to a chair. A tall, thin man with a bulky coat stood beside him, a knife pressed against his throat.</p>
<p class="p1">And in the centre of the room was Trixie, hogtied and sitting on the floor. She wasn’t gagged; Chloe could see the tear tracks that covered her face. Crouched beside her was a woman decked out entirely in leather. She flipped a knife idly in one hand.</p>
<p class="p1">“Finally,” the woman said, straightening up. “We’ve been waiting forever.” She was short and dark-skinned; her short black hair formed tight curls against her scalp. She titled her head and narrowed her eyes. “Now that I’m seeing you, I don’t see what the fuss is about.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Who are you?” Chloe demanded. Her eyes flickered two the two strangers. Neither looked familiar, but she didn’t necessarily expect them to. A few years ago she would have scrambled to connect the dots between her and possible family members of someone she had put away. Now, it was entirely likely that they were demons possessing whatever random bodies they had stumbled across.</p>
<p class="p1">If would be easier if they were normal humans bent on revenge.</p>
<p class="p1">“Lilith,” came a familiar voice from behind her. Michael stepped in through the open door and levelled a glare in her direction. “And who’s this?” He gestured to the — no doubt now — demon.</p>
<p class="p1">“My son.” She waved a hand in his direction.</p>
<p class="p1">“Does he have a name?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Probably,” she answered. “A sweet thing, looking after his mother.”</p>
<p class="p1">“How did you get here?” Michael ground out. “You should be in Hell.”</p>
<p class="p1">The woman — Lilith — gave an elegant shrug. “I hear stories. And if sweet, sad, meek little Eve can make it back to Earth, why not me? She’s a second rate me at best. But enough about that.” She tapped her knife against Trixie’s cheek. She flinched away, eyes wide, but didn’t make a sound. “I’m here for more important things.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Okay,” said Chloe, trying not to flinch herself. If anything happened to her — no, breathe, focus. They would get out of this together. “Any problem you have with — with me, or Lucifer, or Michael, or any of it, we can work it out, okay? But please, please leave my daughter alone. She has nothing to do with any of this.”</p>
<p class="p1">Far from calming the mood, this only served to infuriate Lilith. “Yes, she does!” she snapped, tightening her grip on the knife. Michael shifted his stance behind Chloe. “You know, it took me a while to figure it out. Why would Lucifer stay on Earth for so long? Why would he be so concerned about a miserable speck of a human? Why would he send one of my children back to Earth?” She crouched down and addressed Trixie directly. “It’s because you’re his daughter, aren’t you, little girl? He fathered a child, and he’s been raising you on Earth.”</p>
<p class="p1">Trixie was shaking her head, and Chloe found herself following suit. “That’s not right, you don’t understand —”</p>
<p class="p1">“I understand!” she shrieked. More quietly, she continued in a sickly sweet voice. “I only need you to open up your wings, baby. That’s all I need.”</p>
<p class="p1">“That’s enough, Lilith,” said Michael. He stepped closer so he was beside Chloe. “End this.”</p>
<p class="p1">“No, I don’t think I will.” Lilith reach behind her and pulled out a second knife — dark, curved, and very familiar. “I’ll gut you like I did your brother. Plunging a knife into Lucifer’s side — now <em>that</em> was ending something.”</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe forgot how to breathe. “He’s not —” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word: <em>dead</em>. Lucifer, killed in battle in the place he hated most while trying to protect the world. Trying, doubtless, to prevent something like <em>this</em> from happening.</p>
<p class="p1">“Dead? Oh yes.” Michael made a wounded noise. “He was already in Hell, so I imagine it was a pretty short trip.” She laughed.</p>
<p class="p1">“You —” Michael advanced, but Lilith pressed the tip of the knife against Trixie’s throat.</p>
<p class="p1">“Ah ah ah,” she scolded. “Stay right there. You,” she barked at the demon. “We’re leaving.”</p>
<p class="p1">The demon grabbed Trixie by the arm and hauled her to her feet; she darted forward and sunk her teeth into his wrist. He let her go reflexively, more from shock than pain. Trixie dropped to the ground and crawled her way towards the door. She was intercepted by Michael, who scooped her up. Lilith cried out in a guttural tongue that sounded like a curse.</p>
<p class="p1">“Get her somewhere safe,” Chloe told him. There was a rustle, and a gust of sudden wind, and the two of them were gone. She levelled her gun at the demon.</p>
<p class="p1">He grinned. “Good luck,” he told her.</p>
<p class="p1">“Pathetic,” snarled Lilith. “As if a gun could —”</p>
<p class="p1">She squeezed the trigger, a double tap just as she’d been trained to do taking them both down. She lowered her gun in the silence. She nudged the bodies, just to be safe; they were motionless.</p>
<p class="p1">A muffled sound came from her right: Dan. She limped over to him and pulled out the gag and restraints.</p>
<p class="p1">“Some sick fucking people,” he spat when he mouth was free. “You okay?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Dan…” she started, unsure how to begin. “I —”</p>
<p class="p1">He reached out and grasped her arm. “Don’t say it, Chloe,” he said. “Don’t tell me.”</p>
<p class="p1">“But —” She gestured to the two bodies on the floor.</p>
<p class="p1">“Don’t say it,” he repeated. “Don’t. I can’t. Two people broke in here and tried to kidnap our daughter. This was self-defense. And that it exactly what I’m going to tell the station.” He pulled out his phone.</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe sank to the floor and pulled out her own phone. She dialled Michael — really, it was Lucifer’s phone he was using. He picked up after a moment. “Is she okay?” The words came out in a rush.</p>
<p class="p1">“She is fine. I took her to Linda. I thought it best.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Thank you,” she breathed out. “Thank you. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I will watch over her,” Michael told her solemnly.</p>
<p class="p1">She hesitated. “Michael,” she began. “About — you know —”</p>
<p class="p1">“He is fine,” he told her. “I would feel it otherwise.” He paused. “Lilith has always been deceitful. It is a trait she has passed on to her children. She was lying.”</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe looked at the floor, at Maze’s knife that had fallen and was slowly being consumed by a pool of blood. “God, I hope you’re right,” she said fervently, even though the voice at the back of her mind told her he wasn’t.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Shining So Brightly Above Us</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lucifer finds himself in a familiar place.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We are very close to the end!</p>
<p>My original goal was to have this fic completely posted before s5 aired, and I am on track to do just that. The last two chapters will be up over the next couple of days. Thank you to everyone who has followed along on this journey! 🙏❤️</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Awareness came to Lucifer in increments. It was not a sudden wakefulness, but a slow slide into being. He was first aware of a sense of peace and calm that enveloped him; next came the sensation of a pleasant warmth the enveloped his entire body; then the soft contact of material against his physical form.</p>
<p class="p1">He opened his eyes to a warm glow of light. There was sound, as well: the gentle trickle of water somewhere to his right, the soft call of birds in the distance, and the low hum of song that wove through the air. It was not the oppressive silence of Hell or the pitched calls of battle; it was calm and peaceful, still but not silent.</p>
<p class="p1">He felt no hunger or thirst, and now that his mind had turned to his body, no pain, either. He sat up slowly, and gingerly touched his hand to his side. There was no blood, no wound, and no ache to show there had once been Hell-forged steel buried in his side.</p>
<p class="p1">Lucifer rose from the impossibly soft, comfortable bed, and placed his feet on the floor. It was white stone, pleasantly cool under him. He looked up around the room and took in the carved stone, the delicate archways, the curtains blowing in the breeze, and the soft running water from an aqueduct to the side. He rose to his feet, apprehensive of the phantom pain in his side, and stepped across the room to where the balcony stretched out in front of him. He let out a shaky breath. There was no mistaking this place.</p>
<p class="p1">The Silver City lay before him, shining in all its glory. Towers rose up below him, spires and domes thrusting elegantly up into the sky. It was a glory of architectural genius, all shining brightly of marble and silver. Greenery thrust outward from the rooftops and climbed the sides of buildings. Birds swooped through the air, calling out in joyous song. He looked down to the streets below; there were people, angels, and animals walking the paths together. A river of vibrant turquoise wound its way through the city, and a lush forest brushed up against the opposite bank.</p>
<p class="p1">Even though he hadn’t been in this place for aeons, familiarity rushed through him. He knew these sights as intimately as anything else; he had spent countless hours walking the streets and flying through the sky. There was no mistaking where he was standing, either: this was his tower, his old home in the Silver City. There was only one place that was higher. He looked up at God’s palace, almost directly to his right, and swallowed.</p>
<p class="p1">“There you are, brother,” came Amenadiel’s voice from behind him. “You’re awake at last.”</p>
<p class="p1">He turned to face Amenadiel, who was crossing to room to reach him. His brother glowed in the light of the Silver City, for all it seemed to have removed his fashion sense — he was wearing his dress again. Lucifer looked down at his own clothes and frowned. An undyed cotton robe — clearly lack of fashion was catching. “Why did you bring me here, brother?” he said. “Actually, never mind that. <em>How</em> did you bring me here?”</p>
<p class="p1">Amenadiel stepped in front of him. “You were badly injured. There was no way to heal you in Hell.”</p>
<p class="p1">“And they just…let me in?” Lucifer said incredulously. “No Michael at the gates with his giant sword telling me to go away? No plague of locusts? No great battle?”</p>
<p class="p1">“No, Luci,” Amenadiel told him gently. “No one prevented your entry here.”</p>
<p class="p1">“And then, what? Who healed me?”</p>
<p class="p1"><b>I did</b>, said a voice. The sound boomed in the air between them. His presence wove through the air all around them.</p>
<p class="p1">Amenadiel bowed his head. Lucifer gritted his teeth. “Hello, Dad.”</p>
<p class="p1"><b>Thank you, Amenadiel</b>, God said. <b>I wish to speak to Samael alone.</b></p>
<p class="p1">Amenadiel nodded, and took off in flight. Lucifer watched him spiral down to the streets below until he lost sight of him between the buildings.</p>
<p class="p1">
  <b>It has been a long time, Samael.</b>
</p>
<p class="p1">“I don’t go by that name anymore. You can call me Lucifer or we’re not having this conversation.” The celestial tongue sounded nearly foreign to his ears, and the words felt thick and heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t spoken it since — well, he’d been right around here, hadn’t he? It brought back memories and emotions that he tried to squash down again. Not the time or place for that.</p>
<p class="p1">God’s voice carried a hint of amusement. <b>Even I could never have anticipated how attached you would grow to that nickname when it was given to you. Very well. Lucifer. We have much to discuss.</b><b></b></p>
<p class="p1">“Why did You heal me?” Lucifer demanded brusquely. He wasn’t much in the mood for patronizing comments. Either his chosen name was respected, or he was leaving immediately.</p>
<p class="p1">
  <b>Why would I not?</b>
</p>
<p class="p1">“That’s not a good answer.”</p>
<p class="p1">
  <b>It is not a good question.</b>
</p>
<p class="p1">Lucifer sighed. Difficult and evasive as always. He listened instead to the sounds of the Silver City below. There was music, coming from nowhere in particular but everywhere, strains of song and melody that were garbled in Hell and that the humans hadn’t quite mastered yet. It was beautiful — even he could admit that the one thing the Silver City had going for it was the music.</p>
<p class="p1">
  <b>I would like to tell you a story.</b>
</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m not a child. I don’t need a bedtime story. If You’re planning on tossing me out of the gates, just bloody well get on with it already. I’ve fallen once before, I’m sure I can handle it a second time.”</p>
<p class="p1"><b>Once upon a time</b>, God began, ignoring his outburst entirely, <b>there was an angel. He was the brightest angel in the universe, and loved deeply by his family.</b></p>
<p class="p1">“Doubtful,” Lucifer muttered. There was a plot hole in this story already. He wished there were cigarettes in Heaven. He could do with a smoke.</p>
<p class="p1">
  <b>His mother gave him charm, wit, and cunning. His father gave him song, light, and desire. He was passionate, and precocious, and brought joy to all in his family. They existed together in harmony for a long time.</b>
</p>
<p class="p1">He said nothing. God continued.</p>
<p class="p1">
  <b>In time, the young angel began to ask questions. His father took joy in answering: why light broke into different colours, what the purpose of dark matter was, how time stretched and unravelled across the different dimensions. He rejoiced in their time together and his son’s curiosity.</b>
  <b></b>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <b>But then the angel began to ask different questions, questions that his father couldn’t answer. The angel wanted things that no other angel had ever wanted. He was no longer satisfied with his home, his work, his family. His father was hurt. He didn’t realize there was anything in the universe he hadn’t given to his son. If he had given his son everything he had to offer, and it still wasn’t enough, then his son should go to a place far away to forge his own path. But the hurt had evolved to something ugly and defensive, and the action was done in anger, not with the love and understanding it deserved.</b>
</p>
<p class="p1">“And You threw me into Hell, we get it,” Lucifer said. “We’ve all heard this story before. No need for a recap. I could use a drink right about now.” Which was a useless wish. The alcohol in Heaven was—well, there was no alcohol in Heaven. There was no way to get a proper buzz on. Bloody waste of time.</p>
<p class="p1"><b>I felt regret</b>, God said. <b>Yet each time I looked in on you, the more angry and hurt you were. You stopped talking to me unless it was to shout. I never knew quite what to say. So the divide grew.</b></p>
<p class="p1">“So You didn’t say anything. Yes, I got the silence loud and clear.”</p>
<p class="p1">
  <b>Would you have listened, if I had?</b>
</p>
<p class="p1">He said nothing in reply. Anything other than ‘no’ would feel like a lie in his mouth, but he didn’t want to give his Father the satisfaction of being right.</p>
<p class="p1">
  <b>I chose to employ more indirect methods to communicate with you. A few messengers. Some signs. A miracle.</b>
</p>
<p class="p1">“Chloe?” He tugged aimlessly at the sleeves of his robes, just to have something to do with his hands. “What was the point of putting the Detective in my path? Just another one of Your little games?” Not Chloe. She didn’t — she didn’t <em>deserve</em> to be another pawn in a long game.</p>
<p class="p1"><b>Chloe Decker is a gentle soul. </b>God spoke warmly. <b>So vibrant. I am pleased that you are friends.</b></p>
<p class="p1">“Well, something we can agree on,” Lucifer said. “But again, not an answer.”</p>
<p class="p1">
  <b>You were so deeply buried in your own head. You had distanced yourself from all other beings. You would connect only with humans, and even that had become increasingly fleeting and transactional.</b>
</p>
<p class="p1">“An interesting choice of words to comment on my sex life,” he muttered.</p>
<p class="p1">God did not reply to that. He continued. <b>I simply ensured there was someone on Earth who was immune to your influence. My hope was that it would make you pause, that you could see how to forge a connection on equal footing without relying on your abilities.</b></p>
<p class="p1">“So You didn’t make her…” He swallowed, the words stuck in his throat. The fear that had lived in the back of his mind ever since he’d found out about Chloe’s origins — that she was nothing but another divine manipulation with no agency of her own — slunk its way to the forefront of his mind.</p>
<p class="p1"><b>I did not make her do anything. </b>God’s voice was firm.<b> I confess I ensured your paths would cross, but that is where my interference ends. Her actions and her feelings are entirely her own. As are yours. You may tell her so, the next time you see her. She gave me quite the lecture.</b></p>
<p class="p1">He would love to have been witness to that. The truth, coming out at last, should have eased his mind; instead he felt scraped raw in a way that he did not want to examine. “Couldn’t have just sent a card, could You?”</p>
<p class="p1">
  <b>No one is perfect, Lucifer. Not even me. But I hope that you can forgive me for my actions against you.</b>
</p>
<p class="p1">Lucifer could focus on nothing except the way his hand clenched against the railing of the balcony. “Forgive You?”</p>
<p class="p1">
  <b>Yes.</b>
</p>
<p class="p1">“Aren’t I supposed to be asking You for forgiveness? Isn’t that how this works?”</p>
<p class="p1">
  <b>For what you seek forgiveness?</b>
</p>
<p class="p1">“Well, where to begin? My rebellion, for starters. For all of the atrocities I committed in Hell. For killing Uriel, my own brother —”</p>
<p class="p1">
  <b>Uriel’s death was not your fault.</b>
</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m pretty sure that it was. I killed him, and now he’s just <em>gone</em>.”</p>
<p class="p1">
  <b>Do not mourn for Uriel. He is not gone, not in the way that you imagine. His being has returned to the fabric of the universe. All the parts of him are not bound together as they once were, it’s true. I am sad that I cannot speak with him as the collection of being he once was. But he is not gone. You can see him in the blooming of a flower, or the pattern of the birds as they fly through the air, and rejoice in it, just as I do.</b>
  <b></b>
</p>
<p class="p1">Lucifer looked down.</p>
<p class="p1">
  <b>As for the rest, I am the only one to blame. I cast you away. I gave you a job you were not fully ready for. It is you who must forgive me.</b>
</p>
<p class="p1">“I don’t know how to not be angry at You.” Did he even want to? He tried to imagine what it would be like to no longer carry around the anger he had for his Father, and he couldn’t quite manage it. It seemed like a piece of him, as intricate to his being as his wings or devil face or ability to draw out desires.</p>
<p class="p1"><b>There is no rush. We have time. The universe is still in its infancy. </b>His Father paused before he spoke again. <b>Let us look at other things. Your stars are shining so brightly above us.</b></p>
<p class="p1">Lucifer blinked up at the sky. It was an interesting contrast, the light of the city below and the darkness of the sky, interspersed with stars. He had almost forgotten. “They look different,” he remarked.</p>
<p class="p1">
  <b>Some have aged, some have died, some new ones have been born whose light has not yet reached Earth. The sky on Earth never looks quite like this.</b>
</p>
<p class="p1">“I suppose this will be the last time I get a good look at them,” he said. “Before I’m back in Hell.”</p>
<p class="p1">
  <b>Is that what you wish?</b>
</p>
<p class="p1">“There’s a war going on down there. The demons need to be contained. Lilith needs to be dealt with. Isn’t that where I’m supposed to be?”</p>
<p class="p1">
  <b>Mazikeen of the Lilim has taken control of the throne in Hell. There are pockets of insurgence, but without Lilith there to fan the flames, it will die down quickly. Amenadiel and a few more of my children have offered their assistance in restoring order. He has only now returned.</b>
</p>
<p class="p1">“Where’s Lilith?”</p>
<p class="p1">
  <b>She escaped to Earth. Chloe Decker shot her with one of the bullets you gave her.</b>
</p>
<p class="p1">“Bloody hell. How long have I been out?”</p>
<p class="p1">God’s voice was amused. <b>Not very long. The world marches on.</b></p>
<p class="p1">Lucifer gazed up at the stars, contemplating for a long moment. He knew God was still there, although He remained silent.</p>
<p class="p1">After a minute, or possibly an age — time was so slippery in the celestial realms — he spoke. “So what happens now?”</p>
<p class="p1">
  <b>What do you want to happen?</b>
</p>
<p class="p1">“I don’t know. This conversation isn’t going the way I thought it would.” He thought there would be more yelling, and blame, and maybe even a good old-fashioned fight.</p>
<p class="p1">
  <b>I want what is best for you, Lucifer. The Silver City was once your home. Would you be happy here once more? Or perhaps you could return to your previous post. You may not have enjoyed it, but Hell benefited under your rule. Would you return to your throne? There is always work to be done across the stretch of the universe.</b>
</p>
<p class="p1">His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. “I enjoy the work I did on Earth.”</p>
<p class="p1">
  <b>I know.</b>
</p>
<p class="p1">“I want to go back.”</p>
<p class="p1"><b>You don’t need my permission,</b> God told him. <b>It is your choice. However, I hope that you will visit me, from time to time. Your tower is always waiting for you.</b> He sounded sly. <b>I shall even update your wardrobe.</b></p>
<p class="p1">He snorted out a laugh and immediately bit it back. “I’m surprised no one knocked it down,” he muttered instead, running his hand along the railing.</p>
<p class="p1"><b>No one would dare</b>, God said firmly. <b>Farewell, Lucifer. I hope to see you again soon.</b></p>
<p class="p1">There was no physical departure, but he knew, as certainly as he could, that his Father had withdrawn, and he was left alone with his thoughts once more.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Swarmed With Admirers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Reunions!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We are so close to the end! The final chapter will go up tomorrow before S5A.</p>
<p>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Chloe pushed open the door, almost spilling the bags of groceries to the ground. Sure, she could have taken two trips, but then she would have had to <em>take two trips</em>. She caught them in time and set them down on the floor in a pile and considered the drawbacks of leaving them there and faceplanting on the couch as quickly as possible.</p>
<p class="p1">The biggest problem was that she would have to deal with them later. Responsible adult it was, then. She sighed and picked up the bag nearest to her.</p>
<p class="p1">Naturally, Michael had to be standing in the middle of her kitchen. She started when she saw him looking at her.</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh,” she said. “You. At least make yourself useful and help me put this away.” She looked at the contents of the bag in her hand and held it out for him to take, already eyeing the bags on the ground for things she could trust him to handle. “All this goes in the freezer.”</p>
<p class="p1">A hand reached out to snag the bag out of her grip. “Of course, Detective,” he said softly.</p>
<p class="p1">She froze. Her head slowly lifted up. “Lucifer?” she whispered. His eyes shone, the soft, secret smile he seemed to reserve for her on his lips. The bag of frozen vegetables thunked to the floor beside them. She reached out a trembling hand, not quite touching him. “Lilith told us you were dead. I thought you were —” A sob bubbled up and she closed her mouth around it.</p>
<p class="p1">“Come here,” he said, and pulled her into his arms. She closed her eyes and clung to him. He was warm, as always, and he held her gently, as if she were something precious to him. One hand rubbed small circles against one of her shoulders, and she relaxed into it. He emanated a sense of peace and calm. She breathed deeply; there was his scent of spice and smoke and cologne.</p>
<p class="p1">“I love you,” she told him immediately. “I promised myself if I ever saw you again I would tell you straight away. I’m sorry I freaked out the last time I saw you, I shouldn’t have yelled at you, and all I could think about when Lilith said she killed you was how the last time I saw you I shouted at you like a crazy person, and —” she buried her face in his chest.</p>
<p class="p1">Lucifer squeezed her a little tighter. “Lilith got a lucky strike in — very lucky. Amenadiel took me to the Silver City to recover.” Chloe blinked at that, her mind spinning in different directions. That was huge — that was like, <em>Biblically </em>huge — and he was telling her about it so casually. “I came back as soon as I could. Time moves — differently, there. How long was I gone?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Lilith showed up here three weeks ago. She — well, I killed her. Sort of… here.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I heard. You’ve got everyone talking in Heaven <em>and</em> Hell.”</p>
<p class="p1">She squeezed her eyes shut. She did not want to be the subject of celestial gossip. It was just — it was too big for her. “How long can you stay?”</p>
<p class="p1">“As long as you’d like me to.”</p>
<p class="p1">Her eyes popped open and she drew back from him so she could look at him properly. He looked <em>normal. </em>He looked the same as he always had: suit perfect, hair coiffed, eyeliner on point. He didn’t look as though he’d been away for months battling demons in Hell. And certainly not like he could drop bombs like <em>all good, I get to stay. </em>“What?”</p>
<p class="p1">He shook his head ruefully. “I had the <em>strangest</em> conversation with my Father,” he said. “He patched me up, was generally vague and enigmatic — as usual, really — and then asked me if I would forgive Him.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Wow.” She considered that for a moment. “I have no idea what to say.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Neither did I, to be honest,” he said. “He never actually <em>apologized</em>, mind you. He’s adept at talking without saying much of anything.” <em>Probably where you get it from, then,</em> came the thought into Chloe’s mind. “It was a strange conversation nonetheless. But, I decided to come back here.”</p>
<p class="p1">Lucifer smiled at her as if he were without a care in the world. It was even possible that were true.</p>
<p class="p1">She cleared her throat. “I’m in the market for a partner,” she said. “You know, since my last one turned out to be a demon."</p>
<p class="p1">She meant it as a joke — time and thinking Lucifer was dead had softened the hurt and anger of it all — but the smile slid off his face and he looked at her intently.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m sorry about Haagenti.”</p>
<p class="p1">“What?”</p>
<p class="p1">He frowned, clearly trying to remember something. “Benjamin.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I just wanted you to be safe.” He rested his forehead against hers. “I need you to be safe. I was going crazy down there, thinking about all the murderers shooting at you and how I wasn’t there to look out for you. I was terrified that someone was going to turn up in Hell and I’d find out you’d been killed and I was never going to see you again.”</p>
<p class="p1">She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I was worried about you too.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I didn’t plan on sending anyone to spy on you. I swear I didn’t. That little guttersnipe showed up one day, and it came out that he was a detective with the LAPD, and he was your partner. If I couldn’t be with you, I could have someone watch out for you, at least. You know me — I didn’t think it through it in the slightest.”</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe laughed. It was a small, choked thing, but it was there. “I know your intentions were good, but don’t do anything like that ever again. It — hurt. I was so angry with you because I was so hurt, and then I thought you were dead and the last conversation we had was me screaming at you, and I felt terrible that those were the last things I said to you, and I thought I was never going to see you again, and I just —”</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Okay.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She reached up a hand to cup his cheek, and pulled him down so his lips met hers.</p>
<p class="p1">Kissing Lucifer was like coming home, like a soothing drink of water after a long drought. She curled her hand into the hairs at the nape of his neck and tried to pour all the love she had to offer into her kiss: you are loved; you are wanted; you are home.</p>
<p class="p1">He broke away with a smile and pressed a kiss to her temple. “And one day, in the distant future, when it’s your time to go to the Silver City — well, let’s just say the door is open for my return. If you’ll have me, of course.”</p>
<p class="p1">Her heart squeezed in her chest. “Yeah?”</p>
<p class="p1">He nodded. “When you look up, you can find the second-tallest tower in the city. That one’s mine.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Only the second tallest?”</p>
<p class="p1">He sniffed. “Dad wouldn’t let me make it taller than His,” he muttered.</p>
<p class="p1">She giggled. And once she started, she found she couldn’t stop. She was breathless, tears streaming from her eyes, before she regained her composure at last. She reached out and squeezed his hand. “I’m really happy,” she told him quietly.</p>
<p class="p1">He squeezed back. “Me too.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Stay? At least for dinner?” she asked. “Trixie is at Linda’s, but she’ll be home soon.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Of course,” he said. “Although, I will need a place to stay. I don’t suppose you turned Lux into something respectable and boring while I was gone, did you?”</p>
<p class="p1">“What are you talking about?” She stepped back and looked at the pile of groceries on the ground. The ice cream was looking a bit melty.</p>
<p class="p1">“Well, it is technically yours.”</p>
<p class="p1">She stopped. “Oh,” she breathed. “Oh, right.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Indeed,” said Lucifer, amused.</p>
<p class="p1">“Am I your landlord?” She laughed. How the tables had turned. “Imagine that. I just have one request.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Name it.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Please, please, <em>please</em> take all your money and property back.”</p>
<p class="p1">He grinned, teeth looking rather white and sharp. “No.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Come on! It’s too much. I don’t want it.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Detective! Just think of all the boring shoes and horrible sweaters you can buy.” He gestured to the food spilling out onto the floor. “Think how much frozen meat you’ll be able to feed your spawn. I couldn’t possibly deprive you of all that.”</p>
<p class="p1">She sighed.</p>
<p class="p1">He grinned brightly. “I could be your kept Devil, as it were.” He picked up the bags — much more effortlessly than she had been able to — and made a show of starting to put them away.</p>
<p class="p1">“Lucifer.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You could ply me with lavish things. I am accustomed to a certain lifestyle.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Lucifer…”</p>
<p class="p1">“Parade me around as eye-candy for all your boring colleagues and parents at those dreadful functions you have to attend.”</p>
<p class="p1">“<em>Lucifer!</em>”</p>
<p class="p1">He sighed, put upon. “Fine. I suppose I can take back everything.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Yes! Oh, thank God.” She set about putting the cans and rice away in the cupboard.</p>
<p class="p1">Lucifer hummed at her selection of fruits as he put them in the fridge. “I’ve never seen anyone so excited to lose billions of dollars.”</p>
<p class="p1">She made a face. “No one should have billions of dollars anyway. It’s unethical.”</p>
<p class="p1">He scoffed and fiddled with his cuffs. Clearly he had less than favourable opinions about the ethics of money and his participation in the system. He brightened suddenly. “This works out just as well. I can shower you with expensive things and extravagant vacations.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I don’t <em>want</em> expensive things.” Chloe hesitated. “Although I might not say no to <em>one</em> extravagant vacation. One!” she told him firmly, holding up a finger to emphasize her point against the grin taking over his face.</p>
<p class="p1">“One a year! Perfect! I thought the same thing. I assume you never take vacation and have weeks stacked up for you to use. We should definitely indulge in the classics — tropical island with private beach, of course — but there’s plenty to explore in the way of adventure and food and culture — with allowance for the urchin’s dependency, of course —”</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe shook her head, but she was smiling. It was hard to be annoyed or exasperated when her whole body felt simultaneously light and bursting at the seams. She got to keep him. She got to keep him here with her, on Earth, at her job, working together as partners again. She got to have him standing beside her in the kitchen while she sliced vegetables for a salad. She got to have fun with him and go on dates and just be together. And when she died, it didn’t have to mean they would be apart forever. She would be able to see him again.</p>
<p class="p1">When Trixie came home, she squealed in a manner befitting an almost-teenage girl and threw herself at Lucifer, who complained and threw his hands up in the air and moaned about sticky fingers on his pristine suits. But Chloe wasn’t fooled; she saw the fondness in his eyes as he looked at Trixie and the soft way he looked at Chloe when he thought she wasn’t looking.</p>
<p class="p1">Trixie was — not great, but doing better. She’d latched on to Linda, who normally didn’t take on children as patients, and had a complete and uncharacteristic meltdown when presented with the suggestion of going to a therapist who specialized in children. She also refused to sleep before Chloe came home and she spoke to Dan on the phone; Linda said her behaviour was to be expected and that they would work through it together. She was back in school and sleeping through the night once again, and small victories to be had every day.</p>
<p class="p1">She was concerned that Trixie might react badly to Lucifer’s presence, but on the contrary she attached herself to him like a sparkly little burr. He might have a shadow for the next little while.</p>
<p class="p1">This is real, she thought as they all sat down to dinner together. They got to have this.</p>
<p class="p1">The feeling of peace and calm carried her through dinner and cleanup and as she put Trixie to bed. In the stillness of the apartment she turned to face him.</p>
<p class="p1">“Stay?” she asked quietly. “Please — hold me. Stay with me tonight.”</p>
<p class="p1">He nodded, already pulling off his jacket. It wasn’t sexual, her in her ratty pyjamas and all. He curled behind her, arms secure around her middle, and nuzzled into the back of her neck. For the first time in months, she slept soundly.</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">“Good morning, Ms. Lopez!” Lucifer called out as he entered the lab.</p>
<p class="p1">She whirled around, eyes wide. “Lucifer?”</p>
<p class="p1">“The one and only,” he said, beaming, spreading his arms wide so she could fully appreciate the view. “I do apologize for my absence, but that’s all sorted now. I’m officially here to stay.”</p>
<p class="p1">Ella was still looking rather wide-eyed and shocked, but then again, he had been away for about six months on Earth without any notice or updates. He pulled out a coffee cup from the carrier.</p>
<p class="p1">“Caramel macchiato, just for you,” he said, holding it out for her.</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh, I don’t — I mean I — I —” she stammered.</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh come on,” he said. He waved it enticingly in her direction. “It has extra whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles,” he sing-songed.</p>
<p class="p1">“No!” She reached out and slapped the drink out of his hand. It flew to the window and burst open in a splatter death against the blinds. He blinked. The sugary caramel coffee slowly dripped its way down the glass.</p>
<p class="p1">“Not a fan of the whipped cream, I see,” he commented. Well. He could work with that. There were probably less messy ways for Ella to inform him of her preferences, but he’d seen worse.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m on a diet,” she blurted out. She straightened her shoulders and looked at him squarely.</p>
<p class="p1">“Right,” he said. How strange. Humans and their diet fads. He shrugged. “Well, I’ll go see if the Detective has arrived.” Shooting her a final glance, he stepped back out of the lab. Perhaps she was just upset at him for disappearing on her for six months. He could buy her a nice present as an apology to make it up to her. Something she’d like but would never buy for herself — no, self-denial was much more the Detective’s style. Perhaps something she would absolutely buy for herself if she had sufficient funds for it? A VIP pass to one of those strange conventions where people dressed up as anime characters? No, that was too pedestrian. Now, a car, on the other hand — he’d seen her wheels, and he wasn’t impressed. Perfectly functional for driving around the city and making it to crime scenes, but hardly appropriate for someone with an appreciation for sleek machines. He could fix that.</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe was at her desk, looking radiant despite her frumpy blazer and hair pulled back into a ponytail — and what was the point of getting sexy bangs if she wasn’t going to show them off? She smiled at him as he waltzed up, and he couldn’t help the strange irregular beat of his heart.</p>
<p class="p1">“Hello, partner,” he greeted her, putting down her coffee with a flourish. “Any dead bodies drop? A nefarious murderer for us to round up?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Actually, no. We’re fresh out of dead bodies. Only thing that needs to be rounded up is this stack of paperwork.” She smiled brightly and tapped an absurd mountain of paper on her desk.</p>
<p class="p1">He made a face. “I saw quite enough of that in Hell, thanks very much.”</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe blinked. “You have paperwork in Hell?” She asked.</p>
<p class="p1">“It’s Hell. Of course there’s paperwork.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Really,” she said. “I’ve never seen you do paperwork before. I just can’t imagine you sitting in Hell filling out forms. Maybe that’s why you hated it so much.”</p>
<p class="p1">“<em>I</em> don’t do it,” said Lucifer, affronted. “I have a whole department for that. Pathetic pencil pushers whose blind adherence to bureaucratic red tape causes suffering for others. Like people who denied visas for Jewish refugees during the Second World War. And meter maids.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Right.”</p>
<p class="p1">“However, I can still keep you company,” he announced. “Catch up with everyone. No doubt everyone has been bereft without me for the past six months.” He frowned and looked around. “Come to think of it, I’m surprised I haven’t been swarmed with admirers and well-wishers already.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Ah,” said Chloe. “About that.” She pointed with her pen, and he followed its trajectory to the very last sight he expected to see on Earth.</p>
<p class="p1">Michael — Power of the Demiurge, Sword of God — was walking down the stairs. At <em>his</em> precinct. Wearing <em>his</em> suit.</p>
<p class="p1">The nerve. Honestly, the absolute nerve. No wonder his entrance to the Silver City had been so smooth if his twin was down on Earth trying to take over his life. The cheeky bugger.</p>
<p class="p1">This would <em>not</em> do.</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p2">Dan approached her desk with a folder, and stopped as he caught sight of both Lucifer and Michael. “<em>Two</em> of them? Fuck that.” He did a 180 and went right back to his desk. Chloe turned her attention to the twins and eyed them warily. It would not be good to have a blow up in the middle of a police station.</p>
<p class="p1">“Lucifer,” Michael began haughtily.</p>
<p class="p1">“Michael,” said Lucifer. “It’s good to see you. The suit does nothing for you.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Really?” he said, looking down at himself to examine it. “It is one of yours.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I can pull off anything. You, however, are definitely not an autumn. The mustard yellow does you no favours. What brings you here?”</p>
<p class="p1">“I came to see my nephew,” Michael said. “And I thought I would meet your friends while I was in town. You do not have many, so it has not taken much time.”</p>
<p class="p1">Lucifer looked over at Chloe. “He’s been following me around everywhere for the past couple of months,” she explained with a shrug. “Everyone just assumes he’s you.”</p>
<p class="p1">“But we couldn’t be more different!” Lucifer exclaimed, gesturing emphatically between the two of them. “How could anyone get the two of us confused?”</p>
<p class="p1">She looked between the two of them. “Well, you are identical,” she explained slowly.</p>
<p class="p1">“No, we aren’t,” said Lucifer.</p>
<p class="p1">“We do not look anything similar,” said Michael. “I already explained about the wings.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Ha,” Chloe laughed. “Good joke.”</p>
<p class="p1">Lucifer looked at her blankly. “It’s not a joke. We don’t look the same. Do you really think we are identical twins?”</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe looked between the two of them once again. They looked exactly the same, right down to the identical indignant and bemused expressions on their identical faces. “I guess you’re right,” she told them. She would think they were pulling her leg, except Michael had displayed absolutely no sense of humour whatsoever.</p>
<p class="p1">There was a squeak from the direction of Ella’s lab. They swivelled around, and saw her standing in the doorway, eyes wide and her mouth pressed against the folder she was carrying.</p>
<p class="p1">“Everything alright, Ms. Lopez?” Lucifer inquired.</p>
<p class="p1">She nodded continuously. “Yup. Absolutely. No problems here. Like, none at all. Everything is great.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Right. Well, as I was saying, brother,” Lucifer said, turning back to Michael. “I’m back now, so there’s really no point in you hanging around. There’s really only room for one of us in the Detective’s life, and that’s me. Off you pop.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You are staying?” asked Michael incredulously. “I think Father will have something to say on that matter.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Is this a discussion that needs to happen here?” Chloe interjected. “In front of my desk? In the middle of the precinct? Shouldn’t it take place somewhere, I don’t know, a little more private?”</p>
<p class="p1">“You said yourself you’ve got nothing to do but paperwork,” Lucifer said. “Anyway, Dad’s sorted. We worked the whole thing out.”</p>
<p class="p1">Ella squeaked again. Lucifer nodded at her. “I know, right?” he said. “I was surprised too.”</p>
<p class="p1">Michael was squinting at him. “I do not believe you.”</p>
<p class="p1">“And why should you? You should definitely go check for yourself. No time to waste. Chop chop.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I cannot leave,” said Michael. “I have been assisting Chloe on cases.”</p>
<p class="p1">Lucifer spluttered indignantly. “I can’t believe you,” he said. “You show up here, steal <em>my</em> home and <em>my</em> work and <em>my</em> clothes and <em>my</em> detective —”</p>
<p class="p1">“Enough!” Chloe snapped. “Michael, you haven’t really been assisting anybody. Lucifer, calm down. No one is replacing you. Now, if the two of you insist on continuing this pissing contest, you can do it outside. I have work to do.”</p>
<p class="p1">“But —”</p>
<p class="p1">“I — ”</p>
<p class="p1">“Out!”</p>
<p class="p1">She glared at them until Lucifer sniffed and adjusted his cufflinks. “Fine,” he said. “Call me if you need anything.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Will do. Bye.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Come on, Mikey,” said Lucifer, grabbing his twin by the scruff of the neck and hauling him away. No doubt they had a lot to talk about.</p>
<p class="p1">As they walked away, Ella muttered, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”</p>
<p class="p1">“It is if they know what’s good for them.” She flipped over the paper in front of her. “<em>Angels</em>.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chose To Be Here</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Perhaps a happy ending, after all.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's done! I can't believe it. Squeaking in here with just a little over 12 hours before s5 is released.</p>
<p>THANK YOU, THANK YOU, ENORMOUS THANK YOUS to everyone who has read, hit the kudos button, left a comment, and/or bookmarked this fic. I really hope you enjoyed the ride. This was my first multi-chapter work, and I have to say, showing up out of the blue to drop 10k and leave again is a lot easier. So I am grateful for everyone who has taken the time to encourage me along the way. In return, please enjoy this final offering.</p>
<p>❤️🙏</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“So if you’re home,” said Trixie over dinner. “Does that mean Maze is coming home too? You have to go get her, right?”</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe was not used to hosting such an eclectic family dinner, but she and Trixie wanted to spend time with Lucifer, and most shockingly, <em>Michael</em> wanted to spend time with Lucifer. Neither twin had punched each other yet, so things were looking promising.</p>
<p class="p1">Until, of course, Trixie had to bring up Maze.</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh,” said Lucifer. “Maze is — she’s taken on a lot more responsibility. It was all very sudden.”</p>
<p class="p1">“But what about us?” Trixie insisted. “What about Charlie? She wouldn’t just <em>leave</em>.”</p>
<p class="p1">“She — I —” Lucifer stammered, flummoxed. Chloe found herself at a loss as well. Maze was her friend, but she wanted to be where she was, didn’t she? Hell was her home. She was always talking about how much she missed it.</p>
<p class="p1">“Monkey, it’s complicated,” she said, trying to smooth over the wrinkle in their conversation. “She has a really important job.”</p>
<p class="p1">Michael speared a piece of penne with his fork and examined it closely, seemingly oblivious to the conversation happening around him.</p>
<p class="p1">“Everything is more important than <em>me</em>,” Trixie announced viciously. She dropped her fork onto her plate with a clatter and shoved herself away from the table. She stomped to her room and slammed the door. Lucifer looked around at Chloe, eyes wide and aghast.</p>
<p class="p1">“She’s having a tough time of it lately,” she explained. “Excuse me. I need to go check on her.” She pushed the rest of her dinner away and went to knock on her daughter’s door.</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">Much later, she found Lucifer standing outside gazing up at the stars, almost eerily similar to the sight she had come across six months before.</p>
<p class="p1">“How’s Beatrice?” he asked softly.</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe sighed. “She’s trying her best. She’s been through a lot.”</p>
<p class="p1">“She’s strong,” he said. “She’ll come through this.” He looked up at the stars once more.</p>
<p class="p1">“You’re going away again, aren’t you,” Chloe said. It wasn’t a question. Tears pricked at her eyes and her throat felt full.</p>
<p class="p1">When he turned, his face was full of anguish. “I can’t just leave Maze down there. Not without at least checking up on her to make sure she’s alright. She would do the same for me. And if she wants to come back here, I owe her that much.” He looked down at his side where Lilith’s blade had pierced him. “She saved my life. I wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t taken control of the situation. I can’t — I can’t build my happiness on her suffering. <em>If </em>she’s suffering. At the very least I need to go down and speak with her.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I just got you back,” she croaked. It was selfish. Lucifer was being self-sacrificing, <em>again</em>, and she was the one trying to claw him back. Trying to get him to stay.</p>
<p class="p1">He barked out a joyless laugh. “There are no happy ending when Hell exists,” he said.</p>
<p class="p1">She stepped into his embrace and they clung together for a long moment. She tried her best to memorize every part of him she could: the way his arms felt around her; the firmness of his chest; the feel of his warm hands against her back.</p>
<p class="p1">“Brother?” They looked up. It was Michael who stepped outside to join them. They broke apart reluctantly.</p>
<p class="p1">“What, Mikey?” Lucifer grumbled irritably. “Can’t you see we’re having a moment?”</p>
<p class="p1">Michael said nothing to that, which Chloe took to assume that he did, in fact, not. Instead, he looked Lucifer squarely in his eyes and spoke.</p>
<p class="p1">“I am going to Hell. I will relieve Mazikeen of her position.”</p>
<p class="p1">They stared at him. “Brother,” Lucifer said at last. “They’ll eat you alive.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Why?” Chloe asked, baffled. Michael didn’t want to so much as sneeze without permission from his Father. He had declined to offer assistance to Lucifer in his time of need. Why would he now suddenly announce his intentions to rule over Hell, of all places?</p>
<p class="p1">“Purpose,” he replied. “All my life I have derived purpose from my Father’s wishes. Yet here I see a need, a purpose that must be fulfilled. This is my choice.”</p>
<p class="p1">Lucifer stared at his brother as if he had never seen him before. “You know, Michael,” he said. “I may have underestimated you.”</p>
<p class="p1">Michael shrugged. “Many do,” he said. A sly little smile crept across his face. “It helps that my twin is so unobservant.”</p>
<p class="p1">Lucifer laughed — a really, genuine laugh. “Look at you — making jokes, offering to take over Hell. When did you become fun to be around?” He turned to Chloe. “No time like the present, love. We’ll be back before you know it.”</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">Michael got more of a farewell tour, with everyone giving him a hug and wishing him good luck — Chloe suspected he was deeply uncomfortable with it all and would have preferred to leave quietly without telling anyone, but he put up with it without complaint.</p>
<p class="p1">It was a rough couple of days after Michael and Lucifer’s departure. Lucifer had warned her that he would be gone for a few days — a week at most — to get everything properly sorted. Even so, Chloe couldn’t help the worry that gnawed at her insides and slept poorly the entire time. What if he stayed away? What if there was another war? What if they got into trouble? What if —</p>
<p class="p1">She didn’t even have Trixie to spend her time with. Dan had taken her away for a week-long surfing trip. It would do them good, he’d insisted, to get out of the city and enjoy the sun and sand and surf and get back to nature. Chloe couldn’t disagree with that, and the two of them deserved to spend some time together that wasn’t tied up in trauma.</p>
<p class="p1">So she found herself stopping in at Lux after work, haunting the bar and drinking more than she had since her illicit teenage party years. More often than not, Eve accompanied her, trying and mostly failing to haul her onto the dance floor. “It’s stress-relieving,” Eve called to her as she wiggled her way between two men.</p>
<p class="p1">It was on a Tuesday, of all days, a full six days after Michael and Lucifer had departed, that her morose meditations at the bar were interrupted by Eve’s high-pitched squeal in her as she launched herself at —</p>
<p class="p1"><em>Maze</em>.</p>
<p class="p1">It was an enthusiastic reunion, to say the least. Chloe glanced around. Surely there was somewhere more, well, <em>private</em> they could go?</p>
<p class="p1">“Gosh,” said a voice in her ear. “They’re really going for it, aren’t they?”</p>
<p class="p1">Chloe whirled around and threw her arms around Lucifer. “You’re home,” she told him, muffled into his chest.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m home,” he repeated.</p>
<p class="p1">They held each other for a long moment. She could finally breathe. He was home. He was here.</p>
<p class="p1">“I think we need to move this upstairs,” she said, trying to convey her intentions with her eyes. Her eyebrow may have waggled. She probably looked ridiculous.</p>
<p class="p1">He grinned. “Detective, you read my mind.”</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">“Perhaps I should get out the wax,” Lucifer said, mindlessly swiping at the countertop as if it were anything but immaculate. “And maybe a basic bondage kit? Soft restraints, blindfold — nothing too hardcore — unless you’d like that?” He peered into her face and hummed. “Fuzzy handcuffs? Cops and robbers?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Lucifer, relax,” said Chloe, snagging his hand and forcing him to turn around to face her.</p>
<p class="p1">“Well, I don’t know what it is you desire. I want to be prepared for everything.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I don’t need wax or blindfolds,” she told him, squeezing his hands gently. “I just want you. We don’t need all that extra stuff.”</p>
<p class="p1">He scoffed. “Everyone wants <em>something</em>,” he muttered. Then he brightened. “Nipple clamps?” he offered.</p>
<p class="p1">She tugged at his hand to try to get him to focus. “Hey. I just want you, okay?”</p>
<p class="p1">He was looking at her with uncertainty, as if he, just by himself, couldn’t possibly be enough to satisfy anyone. “Me?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Yeah.” She ran her hands up his arms and over his shoulders. “I want you out of this suit.” Her hands trailed under his jacket and pushed it off his shoulders. It slid to the ground in a crumpled heap.</p>
<p class="p1">She moved next to his buttons, undoing them one by one. Lucifer stood frozen, staring at her intently. As she opened his shirt, he revived somewhat and pulled himself out of it. It joined his jacket on the floor while she started in on his belt.</p>
<p class="p1">His hands played at the hem of her sweater. “No one who lives in LA should own this many sweaters,” he murmured, and cajoled it upwards and over her head, leaving her in just her leggings and a bra. He stepped out of his pants, the belt making a soft clink against the floor. He wasn’t wearing underwear, as usual. His cock sprung free, already hard and leaking at the tip.</p>
<p class="p1">She reached out a hand and caressed down his chest. It was perfectly smooth and waxed, of course; the Devil <em>did</em> enjoy his manscaping. She let out a pleased hum. She traced a single finger up the underside of his cock. Lucifer inhaled audibly.</p>
<p class="p1">“And I want you to feel good,” she said, sinking to her knees. She licked a stripe along his flesh, following the path her finger had taken, and swallowed him down.</p>
<p class="p1">It had been a while since she’d done this, and it took her a moment to remember how it felt and how it was all supposed to work before she started up a rhythm. It was slow and she couldn’t take him too far — all his bragging about being big were not unfounded, she had to admit — but he was making soft little gasps and whines above her. His hands fluttered between her hair and her neck, as if he really wanted to pin her to him. She drew back to suck on just the tip of him and hummed. Maybe in the future, when she’d worked on her gag reflex a bit.</p>
<p class="p1">All too soon he tapped her arm. She looked up at him and he groaned. “Not just yet, please.”</p>
<p class="p1">She let him go with a final, slow suck and rose to her feet. She reached around behind her back and undid the clasp on her bra, and shoved her leggings down so she could yank them off with something amounting to grace. “I want you to kiss me,” she told him.</p>
<p class="p1">He was all too eager to acquiesce, pulling her towards him and plundering her mouth. He shuffled them backwards and up the stairs until they fell backwards onto the bed. His mouth roved from her mouth to her neck, and finally down to press wetly against her nipple.</p>
<p class="p1">“How do you like it?” he breathed against her chest. He tilted his face up so his eyes met hers. “Nice and slow?” He gave an experimental suck, and she squirmed under him, trying to find friction between her legs while a strange noise left her.</p>
<p class="p1">“Hmm. I think that’s yes. A little harder?” He demonstrated, and she had to stop herself from thrashing against him.</p>
<p class="p1">“Yes, yes,” she panted.</p>
<p class="p1">“Some teeth?” She jerked at bit at the feeling of his teeth and couldn’t help inhaling a small hiss.</p>
<p class="p1">“No teeth,” she said.</p>
<p class="p1">“No teeth,” he affirmed, leaning down to give her nipple a small kiss as if to apologize before switching to the other side.</p>
<p class="p1">His hands weren’t idle, stroking along her sides and stomach and rolling her nipples between his fingers when his mouth was otherwise occupied. Her hands found their way into his hair, and down his back, and up his arms.</p>
<p class="p1">“I want you inside me know,” she told him at last, when the sweet pull on her nipples had become too much to bear on its own.</p>
<p class="p1">“I haven’t even eaten you out yet,” he complained. She rubbed her thighs together as if to prove a point. She rolled them over, Lucifer looking dazed on his back and her resting against his thighs.</p>
<p class="p1">She hesitated. “I — do we need a condom?”</p>
<p class="p1">He blinked at her for a moment, then nodded to the table beside the bed. “In there.”</p>
<p class="p1">“No, I mean —” She blew out a breath. “Do we <em>need</em> a condom? I don’t really want one.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Before Charlie I would have said conception was impossible, but now — well, it’s not impossible, but it’s unlikely.” He ran his hands up her sides, making her shiver. “The things you do to me,” he murmured.</p>
<p class="p1">She nodded. “I take birth control. I’m good. I just wanted to be — s-safe,” she stuttered as Lucifer’s hand found its way between her legs where she was hot and slick and sopping wet.</p>
<p class="p1">It was a relief, his fingers crooked just so inside her, his thumb lightly pressing against her clit. She moaned and leaned back further.</p>
<p class="p1">“Look at you,” he whispered. “You’re so beautiful.”</p>
<p class="p1">She didn’t have an answer that wasn’t either playful or saccharine, and neither felt right for the moment. What felt right was batting his hand away from her, lining them up, and sinking down onto him until they were pressed flush together.</p>
<p class="p1">“Come up here,” she whispered. He sat up under her, and she moaned at the change of angle, clutching him tight to her as they breathed as one.</p>
<p class="p1">They moved together in small grinding motions. Her chest pressed against his, his heart beating against hers. She wasn’t sure if they were kissing or just pressed together completely; perhaps it was a bit of both.</p>
<p class="p1">She gasped against his mouth. “I’m so close,” she breathed, her voice hitching.</p>
<p class="p1">“Yes,” he told her, snaking a hand between them to thumb at her clit. The pleasure built and built and built until she whited out with sensation. Lucifer came during her aftershocks with a groan, panting into her neck.</p>
<p class="p1">They clung to each other as they came down. Chloe, thighs trembling, made to get off; he shifted so that he could lay her back on the bed, cradling her head so that she made contact as gently as possible, then pulled out slowly. She whined a bit.</p>
<p class="p1">“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he said, tracing light circles on her hip. “Can I clean you up?”</p>
<p class="p1">She stretched, her back arching slightly off the bed before relaxing. “Yes, please.”</p>
<p class="p1">He shuffled lower down until he was bracketed between her thighs and —</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh!” She tried to sit up, decided that was too much effort, and flopped back down onto the bed. “I thought you meant with a cloth or something.”</p>
<p class="p1">His only response was to chuckle against her folds, and then his tongue was delving in deep. His mouth was languid where she was hot and sensitive, gently suckling her clit into his mouth. He titled his head up to meet her eyes and grinned.</p>
<p class="p1">“My way is more fun,” he rumbled.</p>
<p class="p1">She couldn’t argue with that, and soon enough, no longer had the words to say much of anything.</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">Chloe blinked her eyes open. The soft rays of the early morning sun filled the room, casting a warm glow over everything in sight.</p>
<p class="p1">She sat up slowly and looked to her right. Lucifer lay beside her, still and quiet in sleep. She couldn’t help but reach out and trace the line of his eyebrow; he shifted but didn’t wake up. Deciding to leave him to his rest — they had been rather exuberant last night, after all — she eased her way out of bed, slipped on Lucifer’s discarded white shirt, and made her way into the bathroom.</p>
<p class="p1">The shower was far too tempting to pass up, the temperature deliciously hot and the water pressure perfect. No wonder Lucifer took ages to get ready if he had to pry himself away from this kind of glory every day.</p>
<p class="p1">As if on cue, Lucifer appeared in the room, unabashedly naked and apparently feeling up and raring to go. He slid into the shower and wrapped his arms around her from behind.</p>
<p class="p1">“Getting started without me?” he said. “Naughty. I like it.”</p>
<p class="p1">What a dork. “We have to go into work,” she told him sternly. If she gave him an inch, he would have her orgasming three times before he let her leave the bathroom. “This is a functional shower.”</p>
<p class="p1">He hummed. “Nothing more functional than a good morning rub to get the body invigorated for the day ahead.” His hand snaked down to tease at her inner thigh.</p>
<p class="p1">She laughed and turned to face him. “You have a point,” she told him, leaning in close to his body and blinking up at him. He leered at her, eyes dropping down to take in her breasts. She reached around behind him and plucked the shampoo from the shelf and thrusting it against his chest. “I love a good head massage.”</p>
<p class="p1">It took a moment to sink in, and then he blinked and chuckled. “Alright, minx,” he said, pouringa generous dollop of shampoo into his hands and turning her back around. “I’ll give you a massage.”</p>
<p class="p1">At the very least, he was true to his word. It <em>was</em> an invigorating way to start the morning.</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">“Okay,” announced Ella as they walked into her lab. “So, I have some questions.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Questions about the case?” Lucifer asked. “Because I also have questions.”</p>
<p class="p1">“No, not about the case, blah, whatever, boring.” Ella pulled a notebook out of her desk drawer and ominously clicked her pen. “Right, let’s start with the superpowers. Obviously you can fly and you’ve got your weird eye desire mojo thing —”</p>
<p class="p1">He turned to Chloe in confusion. “Oops,” she said. “I forgot to tell you that Ella kinda knows everything now.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Not everything!” Ella cried, brandishing her notebook. “You’ve got to settle the whole evolution debate. Even though I’m a believer, I’ve always still believed in evolution, but now I’m like, is that even a thing? Or dinosaurs! Did dinosaurs exist? Because my abuela always used to tell me that dinosaur bones were a trick played by the Devil. So what’s the truth?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Dearie me,” said Lucifer, pulling out his flask and taking a generous swig. “We’re really jumping into it, aren’t we?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Yeah,” said Chloe, nudging him playfully. “But you chose to be here, didn’t you?”</p>
<p class="p1">He turned to her, his eyes soft and crinkled with happiness. “You know what?” he marvelled. “I really did.”</p>
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